


Abnormally Average

by NoseBridgePinch



Category: South Park
Genre: Animal Rescue, Black Comedy, Dark Comedy, Gallows Humor, Gen, Hero Kenny, Hero Wendy, Not Just Kenny Dies, Sad Kyle, Satire, similar to the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 65,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28833099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoseBridgePinch/pseuds/NoseBridgePinch
Summary: Stan is sick of being labeled boring and average, so he decides to do something crazy to shatter that image and prove himself. When disaster strikes, if Stan can't be normal can those closest to him hold it together?
Relationships: Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Kudos: 10





	1. Bleah

It was a typical Friday afternoon, the recess after lunch. Nine year old Stan Marsh headed into the boys bathroom, taking a break from yet another football game on the playground. As he entered he noted a piece of paper attached to the wall and after finishing his business went in for a closer look. The first thing he noticed was the stupid paper was held against the wall by chewed up bubble gum, gross! The second thing he noticed is that was another stupid list. The third thing he noticed was it's his name at the bottom of this new list. He rolled his eyes.

"Most exciting, really?"

Stan's voice echoed in the empty bathroom. Well, he would prevent anyone dying, getting arrested or trying to burn down the school this time. He grabbed a paper towel and gingerly unstuck the piece of paper from the wall. He wasn't as grossed out by bodily fluids as Kyle was, but still it was pretty unsanitary by boy's bathroom standards. Stan ripped the page in half, and then again and again until it was in tiny little pieces. He tossed the sticky pieces into the toilet. He would have pissed on them if he'd seen the page earlier. He considered his options as he washed his hands. He wouldn't flip out or do anything rash. He'd talk to Wendy. She was a girl, she was on his side, she would know what to do. He definitely wouldn't speak of this to any of his guy-friends. He didn't want to start any disasters that could easily be prevented.

The playground was usually divided during the half hour recess. The boys had taken the empty field, which had been covered with the snow from last night. Now, the field was tracked with muddy foot prints as the boys played football. Stan ignored his friends calling him back and headed closer to the school to the playground equipment, to that old merry go round.

The Girl's Territory.

Bebe Stevens, Rebecca "Red" Tucker and the lovely Miss Wendy Testaburger were gathered on the merry go round. Red was in the middle of some kind of intense story, shaking her head and clenching her fists. Wendy sympathetically patted her on the shoulder as Bebe looked up at him, narrowing her eyes as she put a stick of gum into her mouth. He gave a small smile and wave as he approached the girls as casually as he could. Sure, all girls were insane, except for Wendy of course. But he still had to make a good impression on her friends.

"Wendy, could I talk to you, just for a minute."

"Sure, Stan."

Wendy broke away from her clique and took her boyfriend's hand. She squeezed his gloved hand in her own and a warm feeling filled Stan as he tried to hold back his gag reflex. It felt good to be this close to her but he had business to take care of. He took a deep breath, still trying to look cool in front of her.

"Wendy?"

"Yes, Stan?"

She smiled at him. That one smile from her and his stomach turned. God, what was wrong with him? Stan tried to swallow back his nausea and focus.

"Another list was stuck to the boy's bathroom wall."

"Really? How did it get there? What did it say this time?"

"Most exciting boy in the class? What is that even supposed to mean? I was on the bottom, by the way."

Wendy stifled a laugh. "So, you're the least exciting boy in class? Oh boy, Bebe is really running out of ideas for Girls Council."

He broke away from her and crossed his arms, for her sake considering how his stomach was feeling. "How can you laugh at this, Wendy?"

"And how can you get upset at this, Stan?" She laughed back, mimicking his serious tone. "Look, this is why the boys aren't allowed to see the list. You remember the mess from last time as much as I do. I don't want you to go psycho over it, you can be better than that!"

"I'm not going to burn down the school, if that's what you're thinking. But still it's a bad feeling. Even Cartman is ahead of me on that list."

"Well, that's the thing about Cartman. He's fat, racist, misogynistic and sociopathic. All bad qualities but I guess that still makes him interesting. Now I'm curious, who is number one?"

"…Clyde."

Wendy stopped laughing and pinched the bridge of her nose, a habit she picked up from Stan. "See? This is why I left the girl's council. Their lists seem to be horribly corrupted and not accurate these days."

"You're not a part of them anymore?"

"I left ages ago, and honestly if I had any part of making this list you would have ranked a lot higher. I wouldn't worry about it."

So he was overreacting as usual when it came to matters of him and his girlfriend."Really, Wendy?"

"Really, Stan."

Wendy smiled in that certain way and his stomach twisted violently. Stan could always try to be cool in front of her but when she smiled it shook him to the core. Stan tried to turn away from her so she wouldn't be in projectile range. Wendy noticed him blushing and took this as a sign of something she had wanted to try for a while. Something she saw on TV all the time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went in for a stereotypical smooch. But this was not some movie star Wendy was about to kiss, this was Stan Marsh. So, needless to say, the typical reaction happened.

"Bleeeeach!"

Wendy blinked and pulled back, wiping her face and the front of her coat, now covered in what they had for lunch not even half an hour ago.

Stan wiped his own mouth, looking down to see his own clothing was still clean. "Sorry, Wendy. "

Wendy backed away from him, trying not to get sick herself over the mess. "No, no, it's my fault as usual. I should know not to get to close to you. You still can't handle it at times. I need a change of clothes right now!"

"Wendy! I said I was sorry!"

Wendy pushed Stan away from her and stomped across the playground, feeling sticky and disgusting, annoyed that she was expected to get used to the smell of vomit by now. She had to talk to a responsible adult about getting a change of clothes. But a responsible adult would be hard to find right now, Mr. Garrison had playground duty today.

Herbert Garrison cursed Friday lunch recess. He could care less if the children killed each other while out on the playground. Less kids to deal with in the classroom, he thought. But every Friday this was his post. The happy screams of the children only made his bad mood worse. Christ, he wished he could smoke while on playground duty. A smoke and a drink would be good right about now. Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes and checked his watch, only ten minutes of this hell outside and then back to the hell inside, but at least he wouldn't be so cold. Also he could sneak a shot from the bottle under his desk right before afternoon lessons started. He was so focused on getting to his hidden bottle of Jack he didn't notice one of the little bastards coming up to him, screaming his name in louder and louder as she got closer.

"Mr. Garrison? Mr. Garrison? Mr. Garrison!"

"What!"

Wendy held out her arms, causing some of the puke coming down the front of her jacket to fly towards her teacher's direction. "Look at me!"

Mr. Garrison wrinkled his nose as he stepped away from her. "I don't think green and brown are your colors, Wendy. You should stick to purple."

"Are you going to do something about this?"

Mr. Garrison sighed, trying to remember the school's new protocol for this kind of bullshit. "Did you puke on yourself, Wendy?"

"No, Stan did!"

"Then both of you should go to the nurse's office."

"He didn't throw up on me because he was sick."

"I don't care Wendy. It's school policy." Mr. Garrison shouted from across the playground. "Stan? Stanley Marsh to the nurse's office immediately!"

After getting a bit of security back into his relationship and ruining it again in the span of five minutes, Stan had shrugged it off and went back with his friends. He was just barely trying to get back into the football game when he heard his name being called yet again.

Of course with any person was in some kind of humiliating situation it caused Eric Cartman get joy. He promptly started laughing. "What the hell did you do to your hippie girlfriend this time?"

"That's a new one, being called to the nurse's office instead of the principal's or counselor's office!" Kenny smirked through his hoodie.

"Shut up! I don't know what they want from me now." Stan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back to Mr. Garrison. "I'm not sick, Mr. Garrison!"

"Stanley Marsh, you report to the nurse's office right now or you can go to the principal's office and I'll make sure you'll have no recess for the next two week!"

"Aw, awww! Five minutes, guys. I swear."

"Goddammit Stan, you start thinking with your dick and now we're stuck with a shitty Jew quarterback."

"What?" Kyle shrieked.

Stan chose to ignore them all and jogged across the playground to show Mr. Garrison that he was perfectly healthy, leaving Kenny to deal with yet another Kyle and Cartman argument for a change.

Stan came up to Mr. Garrison and an increasingly pissed off Wendy. "Mr. Garrison, I'm fine!"

"No whining, come on Stanley!"

Mr. Garrison grabbed Stan by the jacket and dragged him into the building, Wendy trailing behind. Mr. Garrison would have also grabbed Wendy to move her along quicker, but he didn't want to touch her vomit covered jacket.

Nurse Gollum was a perfectly nice lady even if the giant fetus attached to her head held her back from getting close to anyone. She sat behind her desk "doing paperwork" aka checking her Facebook. She jumped up immediately, shutting her laptop when the three entered.

"Oh my goodness what happened here?"

"One of these little basta- eh children threw up on the other one."

Wendy stood, disgusted, with her arms crossed. Stan lagged behind, trying to avoid the embarrassing situation. Nurse Gollum, being used to puke and gross stuff, took Wendy by the shoulder without hesitation.

"Come with me dear, we'll find you a change of clothes at the front office. Young man, go lay down and I'll be back to take your temperature and call your parents."

"But I'm fine, Miss! Really, I am!" Kyle wasn't really that crappy of a quarterback but they would actually win if he were back on the playground. Also the look and smell of the school's nurse's office made him feel uncomfortable, he fucking hated hospitals.

"I think you should stay with him, Mr. Garrison. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Nurse Gollum, I think Stanley is perfectly okay watching himself. I have better things to do."

"Mr. Garrison, we have to be supportive role models as well as authority figures for our students. Now if you don't mind."

The school nurse took Wendy by the hand and led her out of the office. Mr. Garrison sighed and plopped down behind the nurse's desk. The bottle under his desk would have to wait. Stan still stood in the doorway, unsure what to do. As his eyes followed Wendy and the nurse walking down the hall his mind turned away from an already doomed football game to just how big a deal this was turning into over an every day event. He caught Wendy's eye just as she turned the corner, her shooting him a death glare. He knew that look, he saw that kind of look Wendy usually reserved for someone like Cartman, not him. It was the kind of look to be worried about.

"Lay down, Stanley."

"But I keep telling you I'm fine! I think I better go check on Wendy."

"Oh for the love of god, just lay down! Authority figure, my ass!"

Stan, defeated, sighed and walked over to the little cot. He sat at the edge, and eventually laid his head down, pulling his knees to his chest. Stan didn't feel sick but he still felt bad.

Mr. Garrison had opened Nurse Gollum's laptop with some curiosity and was looking for something interesting and possibly erotically stimulating on the thing. Facebook, how lame, the only interesting thing so far was the main picture on Nurse Gollum's Facebook of her in a low cut blouse. He was half trying to decide if the School Nurse would be hotter if he blocked out the dead fetus in her pictures or if it made her more attractive to him. He was questioning himself and the freaky stuff he was into when he looked over at Stan looking miserable on the cot. Ah, well Nurse Gollum didn't have that great of a rack but she had told him to be supportive of their students.

"What's wrong Stanley? I know I'm your teacher, you can come to me with any problems you may have."

The stupid list and the fact he could never do anything right for Wendy were running through Stan's head. He looked over at his teacher. Stan didn't trust any adults except for Chef and right now he missed poor Chef. He could try a question meant for Chef on Garrison and see how badly his teacher would screw it up.

Stan propped himself up on one elbow. "Mr. Garrison, can I ask you a question? In my group of friends what makes me stand out among them?"

"I don't know Stanley, all the kids in my class all kind of blend together. I mean, you all are special in your own way. I guess that's what you're supposed to say in these situations, right?" Mr. Garrison turned his back to Stan and tried to focus more on Nurse Gollum's friends list.

"My friend Kenny is knowledgeable about sex and an extreme daredevil, my best friend Kyle is smart and honorable and full of this anger against Cartman, who has done the worst possible things. Yet still, Cartman can usualy get away with it and is probably my second closest friend…but don't let Kyle hear that. But in the group of four where do I stand out? I'm too selfish to be as moral as Kyle but still care too much to be as heartless as Cartman. My own mouth keeps getting me into trouble. When can I stand out on my own and not have some bullshit fuck it up?"

"Watch your language, Stanley."

Stan rolled his eyes and layed back down, knowing he wasn't going to get anything useful out of his teacher.

After a few moments of silence was broken with Mr. Garrison finally shutting the laptop and turning back to Stan. "What about that girl?"

"Huh?" Stan sat up again.

"Wendy, Your little girlfriend? The one you just puked on and humiliated on the playground? Don't you have her?"

Stan rubbed his arms uncomfortably, remembering the death glare in the hallway. "Yeah, I guess I have her."

"Of course, you probably just let that fly out the window. Remember the Christmas play? I made you little friend Kyle be Joseph and Wendy be Mary? I knew you were the one dying for that part but you could never get it together to be that close to her, I didn't want you to mess up my play."

"Blame me for ruining the play Mr. Garrison? I think the townspeople did a good job on their own ruining Christmas last year."

"No backtalk Stanley, I'm trying to help you."

Stan's smiled faded a bit as he thought of anything else he had left besides his girlfriend. "What about me and my sports? They always put me ahead in all the teams I try out for. I was quarterback in football, pitcher in baseball and star striker in soccer. That has to count for something. Right, Mr. Garrison?"

"Sure with that you'll have a fine time in school always succeeding in school and your own cockiness will get the best of you and you'll blow another big game. You'll probably suffer some horrific injury in your teens ruining any chances of making a career out of it."

Stan placed his head back on the cot, with his back facing Mr Garrison. His ego wounded, confidence defeated. God, what was wrong with everyone employed at this school? He shut his eyes and dozed off, a few minutes later, was gently shaken awake by Nurse Gollum.

"Stanley, your father is here to pick you up."

"Where's Wendy?"

"She's perfectly fine and back on the playground dear."

"Stan, Staaaan? Are you okay son?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine."

Randy Marsh got in close to see his son, Stan could smell the alcohol on his breath but didn't want to speak up. The last thing he needed was his dad arrested on top of an already shitty day.

"Put your coat and hat on and let's go kiddo."

Stan sat up, looking confuse. "Dad..?"

"What, Stanley?"

"I…never take off my hat or jacket, most of the time."

"Oh right, right, let's go." Randy pointed to Nurse Gollum. "And be happy we don't choose to sue the school over making my boy sick!"

"Dad, Jesus Christ, I'm not that bad!"

Randy took the collar of Stan's jacket and pulled him out on the playground out into the parking lot. Stan could see Wendy, her hands over her face with Bebe and Red consoling her.

"I'm sorry, Wendy!" Stan yelled across the playground.

Wendy looked up at him, left hand raised in the air, giving him the finger before she turned away from him. He could see from across the playground what the school gave her to wear. An ugly knitted together sweater colored a shocking pink, a huge Christmas tree across the front was now Wendy's 'outfit'.

Stan's face turned the color of his girlfriend's sweater as he got into his dad's truck. Randy got in on the other side and slammed the door shut. Stan lost in thought jumped a bit as his dad started up his truck.

"Goddamn, I'm glad to be out of there with that freaky school nurse breathing down my neck. I don't see how you kids can do it, being in school all day like that. "

Stan stared straight ahead, ignoring his father. He considered talking to his dad on what was on his mind but it was fairly clear that the last person he could go to for good advice was his own father. He was just as screwed up in the head as every other adult in this town. He'd just hold off any real questions about his personality until school let out and Kyle could come over.

Randy looked over and placed his hand on his son's shoulder, the car slightly swerving to the left. Stan's head jerked up again.

"Dad, watch it!"

"What's wrong son? You look depressed."

"Nothing! Just watch the road!"

Randy gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "Are you sure, Stan? You can tell me anything."

Stan didn't respond, hoping it'd be enough to deter him from asking any more stupid questions.

"Well I'm glad we can spend some quality time together. Your mother wanted me to do some yard work and now you can help me."

Hell, he was already out of school, but without a decent chance to apologize to Wendy, he might as well milk it.

"I think maybe I might still be too sick for any chores dad. I think I'll just be up in my room."

Randy pulled the truck into the Marsh family driveway.

"Alright, Stan. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, Dad just a little sick. I should lie down."

"Then, can you do me a favor?"

Stan had his hand on the door handle. The sanctuary of his room. So close. Dammit.

"Yeah, dad?"

"You should check your email Stan. I forwarded a ton of important emails to you."

"I don't think I'm up for it."

"You're not too sick to sit in front of your computer and do a few mouse clicks. You're not too sick to care, are you Stanley?"

"…I guess not."

Before Randy could ask him for anything else Stan jumped out and slammed the truck door behind him, running up the stairs to his bedroom.

The Marsh residence wasn't quite as chaotic as the McCormick family's house was. But still Shelly lurked around to ruin Stan's already awful day, as always. But as long as Stan was alone in his room with the door locked, he felt okay, peaceful even.

And he was better off than Kyle. Kyle's mom wouldn't allow either of her sons to have a lock on their bedroom doors. When Kyle was pissed off at his parents he had to shove a dresser in front of his door to block them out. He was pretty sure Kenny didn't have a door on his bedroom at all. Stan felt lucky compared to that.

In Stan's room, everything was in its right place. His desk with his computer, the night stand with his awesome Denver Broncos lamp, book shelf with the full Bubblegum Prince series as well as school books and his long forgotten copy of Catcher in the Rye. His Street Warrior poster above his bed, which Stan would stare at as he fell asleep every night.

Stan removed his hat and lay down on his bed, his thoughts shifting from Kyle's insane mom to Wendy.

"Wendy..."

Saying her name out-loud was okay for him. He rolled over and opened his bedside table drawer, taking out a picture she gave him when they first started going out. Her face smiled back at him in the photograph as she held a yellow flower in her gloved hand.

"I'll be yours forever. Sure, Wendy. Until someone better comes along."

Stan sighed. He didn't know what his problem was. He was fine alone with the photo but with Wendy in front of him his nervousness got the best of him. Was he doing better in the romance department than any of his other friends and acquaintances?

Butters had paid a girl to kiss him. Kenny had moved past the kissing phase quickly and gone straight to blowjobs, gross. Kyle had done okay, kissed Bebe in front of him and Wendy in the clubhouse, but not into it. The other girl Kyle liked had turned him into a lovesick wuss, and that had ended badly. Cartman however…

Stan's hands clenched in anger over the memory, causing the picture of Wendy to crinkle up. Cartman had gotten a way better kiss from his girlfriend than Stan himself had ever gotten. Wendy had tried to get something from Stan earlier on the playground, but of course Stan could never be cool in front of her. Sports be dammed! Other than that what did Stan have that made him special? If he lost Wendy over this he would just be another boring kid in the background. If he didn't have Wendy what else did he have?

Stan thought back to when he "won" her, after the Canadian-American War. They were semi blissful until she left him. After being depressed for a bit he and forgotten about her, didn't give a crap about her, or so he thought. Stupid egg project bringing up old memories. But when he and Wendy were forced to team up, their best friends were acting crazy. Stan and Wendy had to stop Kyle from wanting to burn down the school and Bebe from killing them all over some shoes. What a pair those two made. After that mess they were together again.

Stan still had Wendy, for now it felt like a sturggle to keep going out her. Wendy Testaburger wasn't just impressed but typical stuff like flowers and chocolate, but he knew it wouldn't hurt either. He had to be an activist again to impress her, and do some good for the world as well.

"Just what could I do?"

Stan stared at the picture on his wall of him and Sparky when his dad's annoying voice shattered his thoughts.

"Staaaan? Who are you talking to? Did you check your emails?"

Oh god dammit. "No one, Dad, just myself. I'll do it right now."

Stan shoved Wendy's picture back into his drawer and went over to his computer, flipping on the switch.

As most kids had, Stan had two separate emails. There was Stan's real email that he used for Xbox live and signing up for forums and such- and there was his parent friendly email . Loves2spooge would have to wait, maybe a few emails from Kyle or some football and game websites. It still irked him that Kyle had used his real email to sign up from that soul sucking website Facebook, but he could let it slide. The Facebook profile was deleted and no harm was done, except for Kyle's Farmville crops.

Speaking of Stan's best friend he logged quickly into his real email and shot a quick email to Kyle. Speaking his true thoughts. It was 3:30pm; Kyle and the rest of the kids would be on the bus ride home by now.

Stan's other email, Smarsh19 was filled with useless crap from his dad, mom, grandma and pretty much every family member out there.

Stan rolled his eyes as he logged into his other email. Spam… spam…spam… Jesus loves him apparently and he had to tell 10 people on his friends list about it…bullshit… bullshit…bullshit… He clicked on the last thing his dad sent him. It was marked "stop this tragedy!" Stan clicked and a video opened up and a voice that eerily sounded like Sally Struthers filled Stan's quiet room.

"Each year thousands of animals are kept in testing facilities in cages too small for them, left to sit in their own feces and filth and for what? To be used as test subjects in makeup and household products. More and more animals are tortured and killed due to this mistreatment most right in towns such as South Park."

Stan quickly shut the video window, trying not to puke again over what he had just seen. If there was any cause in which Stan could stand up and be an activist on his own it sure as hell would be over animal abuse.

Stan made sure the video was completely over before he checked the forwarding email. The name to the animal testing facility was on there. Stan glanced at the clock. 3:45pm, Kyle should be home already. So would Wendy. Stan grabbed his phone and thought for a minute of who to call first, slowly he punched out Wendy's phone number. Ringing, ringing, ringing.

At the Testaburger residence Wendy had thrown down her backpack, soiled shirt in a plastic bag…thanks Nurse Gollum. She went to her room and changed, throwing the disgusting pink Christmas sweater in her trash can. It never existed. Out of sight out of mind. Stan's dialing finger was a bit too slow (he shouldn't have hesitated!) because Wendy already picked up the white princess phone in her room to call Bebe.

Bebe and Wendy were just as close best friends as Stan and Kyle could be their actions and emotions in sync. Bebe picked up her phone line, instinctively knowing who it was.

"How are you holding up?"

"Disgusting sweater disposed of, bad thoughts I can't shake, lots and lots of bad thoughts, memories. Dammit it's never like it is on TV."

"Maybe my show just isn't for you, Wendy."

"Maybe I shouldn't take love advice from a show called Skins anyway, Bebe. That show is inappropriate for kids our age anyway. It sends bad messages, bad consequences."

"But Wendy, it's on BBC America every night! They show a hot guy's ass every other week! I just can't go back to Full House after that!"

"Bebe stop fangirling! This is serious! I don't know what I'm going to do about Stan!"

"Wendy! Wendy! Get a grip. You say this about every other month or about after the fifth time you've been puked on, whatever comes first."

"Maybe I should break up with him…again."

"Wendy, you always get discouraged and I always have to talk you out of it. Do I have to do it again?"

"I don't know what to do, Bebe."

"How about this: if you can name three things you really like about Stan you should stay."

"Well…"

"Name them. Right now."

Wendy sat back on her bed, pondering.

"Well, even though we can never get in a decent kiss, he is really sweet and caring."

"Good, go on."

"Um, we do kind of make a good pair, him being into sport and me being class president. It's not a set pair like a cheerleader and football player together, no offence, Bebe."

"None taken. You can say anything to me, Wendy, well almost anything."

"We have a good…thing going I guess."

"See why I make you do this exercise now, Wendy?"

"Yeah, but I don't like that he seems to want to spend more time with his friends rather than me, I hate that."

"Ooh, one strike against him, but we're trying to think positive. Think of one more thing so it's three to one."

"Ummm a third thing..."

"May I suggest looks?"

"Bebe, I would never be so shallow."

"Wendy, no relationship would work if there was not some kind of physical attraction."

"Been reading your mom's Cosmopolitans again haven't you Bebe?"

"How do you think I got this good? Go on, tell me you think your boyfriend is hot."

Wendy smiled. "He's hot."

"How hot?"

"The best looking guy in school."

"Well I wouldn't go that far, I made a list over this."

"I think I love him again."

"Good I'm glad to hear that."

"Thanks Bebe, you always know what to say."

Meanwhile Stan was explaining his idea over the phone with Kyle who was on his own computer.

"Yeah it's horrible and that place is here in town. we would be doing good if you and Kenny go along with my plan. Got the address?"

The sound of the keyboard clicking could be heard on Kyle's end of the line. "Yeah it's right by Stark's Pond. You sure you're doing this just to protect animal rights Stan?"

"Yeah dude definitely."

"This has nothing to do with puking on Wendy in front of the entire playground earlier today?'

"I- I don't know."

"You should invite her along on this mission. Be a hero in front of her like what you have planned."

"It's not just about that dude. I hate seeing animals suffer."

"Alright Stan, just checking."

"Okay I have to go, you're going to call Kenny? I can't borrow and drive my dad's truck without him to use the pedals for me, you're too afraid to help me out dude."

"hey buckle up for safety dude."

"Kyle will you call him for me? I'm gonna try Wendy again."

"Sure goodbye."

"Bye."

Stan hung up feeling a bit more satisfied with himself. He quickly dialled Wendy's number again only to be met with a busy signal. Oh well, things would be better tomorrow. All Stan had to do was wait for it to get dark and his parents to go to sleep for his ingenious plan to go into action.


	2. Bottom Of The Food Chain

Stan would have spent the rest of the afternoon sulking and attempting to call Wendy again for the forty seventh time, even though Kyle told him, over instant message, to let it go. Out of sheer boredom and yet another busy signal, Stan walked back downstairs and got roped into peeling potatoes by his dad. Ever since his dad had got fired on the night Obama was elected, he was on unemployment. Stan's mom had taken on more hours at Tom's Rhinoplasty, which left Randy in charge of all the family meals, much to Randy's delight and to the horror of the rest of the family.

Stan sat on a stool over the trash can with a knife and bowl of potatoes peeling very slowly and deliberately as Randy stood over the stove with his current favorite cook book, Exotic British Recipes. Stan had to shudder, British food was terrible, but he had to ask...to prepare himself.

"So uh Dad, what are you going to make tonight?"

"I'm making a special sauce with mustard, creme fraiche, white wine and a secret ingredient for the main dish. You just work on peeling the potatoes, parsnips, carrots and swede."

"Oh god not that disgusting crème Fraiche stuff again, you want a side of potatoes, parsnips, carrots and WHAT?"

Randy grinned and dropped another bowl next to his son. Stan picked up a small, purplish vegetable and turned it around in his hand.

"I want those all peeled and cut into one inch cubes okay Stanley?"

"Dad? Remember when Mom was the one making dinner and she would make her famous mashed potatoes? Those were always my favorite! Can we take a break from the crazy food for one day and make those? Like mom always did?"

Randy had his head in the refrigerator grabbing a bottle of French's mustard. "You really like Mom's special potato dish don't you? Well, don't worry, I can probably make that for you as well."

Stan smiled and bent his head over the potato he was working on: a small victory. Something edible and his favorite homemade dish to boot.

Randy still had his head in the refrigerator, looking around when he was hit with a sudden burst of cooking inspiration. "We could have the same thing we've had for years, or I can make something new." Randy held out a jar of pickled jalapenos to his son. "What do you think, Stan? Wanna try something exciting?"

"I don't really know, Dad."

"Come on, son, live a little. The only people who enjoy boring, bland food are boring and bland themselves."

At the mention of the word 'boring', Stan cringed and slipped with the potato peeler, managing to nick the top of his thumb. He gave a small yelp of pain and dropped the potato. At the sound of Stan's cry, Shelly entered the kitchen to grab a soda out of the fridge and laugh at her brother's pain.

"Haha, Stan's bleeding."

"Shut up." Stan gave his sister a dirty look and stuck his injured thumb in his mouth.

Shelly gave her brother a menacing look and started to make a fist when Randy interrupted, his back turned, busy preparing the mustard, wine and crème fraiche sauce. "Stan, go put a bandaid on; Shelly set the table-your Uncle Jimbo and Ned are coming over and your mother will be home soon."

"You're lucky this time, turd." Shelly rolled her eyes and made a big show of flinging open the kitchen cabinets to grab some plates as Grandpa Marvin Marsh wheeled himself into the already cramped kitchen.

"Randy, you coddle that boy. I lived through two world wars, Billy and a little blood never hurt anyone!"

"Ew, Dad! I don't want Stanley bleeding into the traditional English vegetable mash I was going to make."

"I was in World War II and your brother, Jimbo was in Vietnam, Randall! You decided to go off with that prissy little boy band instead of applying yourself like a man and I can see it's rubbing off on little Billy as well!"

The sound of Shelly cracking up in the dining room distracted his feuding grandfather and dad so Stan took this opportunity to escape the claustrophobic kitchen, running up the stairs into the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and put the facet on full force, sticking his hand under the cool, running water. The cut on his hand wasn't really that bad, but for the second time that day, he had gotten out of something by showing weakness. He was free of responsibility of chores and school for now but ouch, his pride. But it was always the hierarchy in the Marsh household: Grandpa, being the oldest getting to tell everyone exactly what he thought of them on a regular basis and all the way down the food chain with Stan at the bottom being the youngest, smallest and apparently the weakest, getting the most shit. Stan put on a bandaid on his thumb and was heading back to his room to hide when the doorbell rang.

"ANSWER THE DOOR, TURD! I'M SETTING THE TABLE!"

Stan obeyed and went to greet his Uncle Jimbo and Ned.

"Stanley! How are you!"

"Hi, Uncle Jimbo, I'm fine...I guess."

"Really, Stanley? You don't seem fine…you could manage a smile, sport."

"MMM hello, Stanley." Ned said with his voicebox. He had the Irish model tonight.

Stan cracked a small smile and thought maybe his Uncle Jimbo and Ned would understand. They had been cool enough to smuggle fireworks into Colorado for him and his friends that summer they were banned. Stan was about to ask when Jimbo handed Stan a tied up plastic grocery bag.

"That's a boy, now take that to the kitchen, Stanley."

Stan headed towards the kitchen and realized the bottom of the bag was sloshing with blood and feathers were poking out of the sides. He dropped the bag in horror on the kitchen counter. Randy was stirring an orange-ish concoction on the stove top and coating a pan with butter.

"Oh good, Jimbo's here with my ducks."

"Ducks?"

"Yeah, Stanley I had this excellent recipe that calls for fresh wild ducks so I had Jimbo and Ned hunt some for me. Oh. they look great!"

Randy grinned and pulled out one of the battered and practically torn apart, dead ducks and held it in front of his son's face. Stan was reminded of the animal abuse video he had seen earlier and turned a bit green when he saw some of the blood from the bag drip down the counter and onto the floor. Randy noticed it as well and grabbed a measuring cup.

"Oh, don't let any of the blood go to waste, Stanley, it's the best part! The main ingredient in the sauce that goes along with it!"

Randy went on catching the duck blood in the cup as Stan went and sat down on his stool again. He saw the vegetables he was supposed to peel had already been done. Jimbo entered and dropped another sack on the counter. Randy eagerly ripped open that bag and pulled out a bloody rabbit carcass.

"This is really great, Jimbo. I can't thank you enough. Ever since I saw that show on how to debone and cook poultry and rabbits, I've been dying to do it!"

Jimbo's grin matched Randy's as he slapped his little brother on the shoulder. "I like killing them and with this new hobby of yours you can keep cooking them! Now what's the matter, Stanley?"

Stan had been staring at them, wide eyed and silent so Ned spoke up.

"MMm maybe the dead animals are getting to him."

"I just don't like seeing my food dead and bloody in front of me before it's cooked and I eat it."

"Nonsense, Stanley, hunting is a man's sport. You loved going hunting with me and Ned that one time."

"Now, Jimbo, you said little Stanley had trouble shooting the bunny. We can't blame him for being…sensitive."

Jimbo and Randy both fell into laughter and even Ned joined in with his mechanical voice as Stan turned red and spoke up.

"Hey, I killed that thing! Scuzzlebutt! What about that?"

The three men stopped chuckling and looked at Stan, all traces of humor leaving their faces.

"That was not cool and unnecessary, Stanley. You've got to learn that there are simply things you don't kill."

"Awh, I still don't get it! I'm out of here!"

Stan walked through to the dining room and was met by his grandfather and sister.

"Lookit there, Billy, it took you half an hour to peel one potato and you hurt yourself. I started working when I was eight and I had to peel a twenty pound sack of potatoes in twenty minutes or they beat the shit outta me and wouldn't let me eat. I tell you today these kids are soft, especially the boys."

Shelly was busy texting some guy she met on the internet from New Mexico when she looked up grinning.

"I can toughen up Stan if you want, Grandpa!"

"It's a disappointment to the Marsh family name when a boy's own sister is stronger than him!"

"But I'm nine when she's thirteen, I can't defend myself yet!"

"No excuses, Billy, it's just like Randy and Jimbo all over again but at least I had two boys then. A little physical violence is good for a young boy-builds character!"

And you grew up mean and suicidal. Stan thought to himself.

"Maybe you should teach Billy a lesson, Shelly."

Why, out of all the family members in the household, Stan's own grandfather couldn't remember his name correctly?

"Really, Grandpa?" Shelly smiled as she put away her phone and approached her little brother.

Stan stepped back against the dining room wall and slowly tried to inch himself towards the exit to the living room. Shelly grabbed the collar of his jacket, slamming him hard against the wall, right fist raised and ready as Stan struggled to get out her grasp. Out of options, Stan shut his eyes and placed one hands in front of his face in a defensive position as the other kept reaching out for some way to escape, when he heard the sound of the front door opening. His mother was home!

Shelly let up for just a second. Stan's fingers reached over to grasp the door frame and he swung himself around to the living room and away from Shelly, the momentum giving him a head start on escaping his sister as he ran to the door to greet his mother. The movement propelled him to run forcefully into Sharon, his arms wrapping around his mother's waist causing her to drop her purse and keys in surprise.

"Stanley? What's wrong honey?" She quickly returned her son's hug.

Stan looked up as Shelly's sneakered feet pounded up the stairs and her bedroom door slamming shut, the motor of Grandpa's wheelchair could he heard whirring towards the direction of the kitchen. Safe for now.

"Nothing, Mom, I'm just happy to see you!"

Sharon smiled and hugged Stan even tighter. It was nice to receive affection from her son before he grew too old to still want his mommy. "I'm happy to see you too, sweetie. I was worried about you today since you got sent home sick from school."

In a gesture of motherly affection, Sharon reached for Stan's forehead, to feel with the back of her hand. Stan frowned at this and let go of the hug, stepping back until he was out of his mother's reach.

"Mom, really I'm fine. Dad and the school really blew it out of proportion."

Sharon sighed as she retrieved her purse and keys from the floor. In less than a minute since she came home, her son went from little boy to stubborn; almost pre-teen.

"I called the school nurse after your dad took you home and she told me this is a regular thing going on between you and Wendy. I have half a mind to call up Deborah and Sean Testaburger and discuss the issue with them."

"Mom, no!"

"But I won't, not yet at least. Instead I called up one of the clinic I work at's contacts and invited someone over to have dinner with us and discuss the matter with me and your father. Hopefully your dad has cooked something normal tonight. Can you set another place setting at the table?"

Sharon headed back to the kitchen and Stan could hear the familiar sound of his mother starting to yell at his father while his dad tried to defend himself, and Jimbo and Ned laughing. Stan just stood alone in the living room, getting annoyed at the constant chaos in his house caused by the people he happened to be related to. Instead of listening to his mom Stan started up the stairs to call Wendy or Kyle again when the door bell rang once more. It briefly interrupted the arguing from the kitchen as both his parents shouted in unison.

"Answer the door, Stanley!"

Stan rolled his eyes and flung open the front door to be met with a woman with no arms, bent over with her tongue sticking out.

"Oh good, I'd thought I'd have to ring the door bell again. Hello, I'm Nurse Goodly."

Stan stared at her.

"I'm friends with Sharon? She invited me over?"

He blinked.

"Look, kid, I'd shake your hand but you know.."

Sharon came up to the door. "Stanley, where are your manners? Rita, so good to see you!" Sharon pushed her son to the side to give her friend a hug. "This is my son, Stanley."

"This is him then? He looks familiar to me. Has he been a patient at the hospital before?"

"He hasn't been in the hospital since he came down with vaginitus a while back."

"Oh, but that's a very common disease. I think I recognize him from somewhere else."

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

"Stanley, be respectful of our guest! It's almost impossible to get him to go to the doctor, it's why I had to call you in for a house call."

"No problem, Sharon. I guess I'll examine him now."

Nurse Goodly's bag dropped from off her shoulder and she started to undo the zipper with her teeth. Digging her head into the bag, she emerged with a tongue depressor in her mouth.

"Say ahhh." She said though her teeth.

Stan backed away from her, his back against the couch. "Don't touch me."

"Stanley! Cooperate right now or you'll be in trouble, mister!"

"Please, Mom, no. Don't make me do this." Stan covered his face with his hands as he backed towards the couch, sitting down.

Nurse Goodly spat out the tongue depressor. "You're right, Sharon. He is a handful to examine. From what I can see though he looks pretty normal. You said he had a vomiting problem? Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment."

Sharon sat down on the couch next to Stan, mimicking her son by burying her face in her own hands in frustration.

"I just don't know what to do with him anymore, Rita! Ever since he started third grade, this has been happening! I'm extremely worried about his well being!"

Beginning of third grade? When he started liking Wendy? Fuck!

Nurse Goodly's voice was muffled as she rummaged through her bag again with her face. "I'm sorry I can't do a better job, I left my prosthetic arms behind at work today. I was in a rush to get out of there." Her head popped up out of the bag in surprise. "Oh! That's where I recognize your son from Sharon. That bad snow storm about a year ago when we had that really bad power outage at the hospital. Stanley and his little friends had to help us out. You stood out because you would not stop throwing up that night. I was sure something had to be wrong with you and I would have ordered you to undergo some tests but we had more severe cases to attend to that night. But now it would probably be beneficial to you if you came in for observation. Just a night or so."

"Mom! I am not going into the hospital over this! Nothing's wrong with me for fuck's sake!"

Sharon snapped her head up, going into her familiar mode. "I am sick of your attitude tonight, Stanley! Nurse Goodly has gone out of her way to help us out and you can't even be grateful! You are on thin ice mister!"

Just then shots rang out from the back door and the Marsh family dog, Sparky started barking. Stan, Sharon and Nurse Goodly all ran into the back yard to be met with Uncle Jimbo and Ned with guns drawn at something pink on the ground, Sparky barking and growling at it.

Jimbo put his gun down. "Sorry about that, ladies, false alarm. We thought we saw your dog attacking some kind of bright pink creature and had to investigate."

Stan walked up to the pink mess and saw fluffy white stuffing coming out of it. "You mean the pink teddy bear we gave Sparky to play with? All of Sparky's toys are pink; it's my dog's favorite color."

Jimbo went up to investigate his kill as well. "I'm pretty sure a dog can't have a preference of color, Stanley, all dogs are colorblind you know."

Sharon went to investigate as well, but Ned lagged behind with Nurse Goodly, holding his voice box up with his one remaining arm. "Mmm hello. I don't think we've met. I'm Ned Gerblansky."

Sharon overheard. "Oh, Ned, this is Nurse Goodly. She's a friend of mine and sometimes works at Tom's Rhinoplasty. I brought her in to examine Stanley and get to the bottom of his little problem, but he wouldn't cooperate."

"I said I don't have a problem!" Stan spoke up from across the yard.

Jimbo caught sight of Ned and the nurse as well. "I know Ned when he gets that look on his face. Watch him try to romance her, Stanley."

Sharon noticed too at the blush appearing on her coworker's face. "Why hello, I'm Rita Goodly, I love your accent."

"MMM Why thank you mmm'lady."

Stan went up to his mom again. "How come you listen to everyone else but me?"

"Shhh, Stanley. Go get your sister and you two wash up for dinner. Your dad stopped banging pots around and cursing, that means dinner will be ready soon."

Stan grumbled at his mother's ability to believe everyone but Stan himself when he had a problem. But he obeyed and went inside.

Shelly's bedroom door was shut and slightly vibrating from the heavy bass of the generic sounding pop music coming from the entertainment system that took up an entire wall of her bedroom. The sound system had been given to her by their now deceased Aunt Flo. Aunt Flo had given Stan a gold fish...that had killed a bunch of people. Nobody in this damn family appreciated him, did they?

Stan pounded his fist on the door; trying to be heard over the sound of the music. "Dinner's ready!"

The music got switched off. His job done Stan went into the bathroom and stuck his hand under the faucet, the band aid on his thumb growing soggy as Shelly came from behind. Stan stood on guard in case she wanted to smack him in the back of the head as she usually did. But she just stood there, waiting her turn it seemed like, or just waiting to strike most likely.

"Who's come over now, turd? I heard the doorbell ring again."

The soggy band aid fell on Stan's finger, the soap making the fresh cut sting. "Mom invited some nurse she knows over."

"Why?"

"She...she thinks there's something wrong with me."

Shelly shoved her brother to the side of the sink and started putting soap on her hands. "You're taking too long, turd. And of course there's something wrong with you. Mom didn't need a nurse to tell us that."

"There's something wrong with everyone in the family Shelly. I think you all just give me shit to cover up all your personality flaws. I stick out among you guys because I'm the only one who's...normal."

Stan spat out the last word as he tried to get the last of the soap off his hands with a towel, his sister hogging the sink as usual. Shelly turned to him, eyes narrowed. She gave him a big slap across the face, leaving a soapy hand print on his cheek.

"Thanks, Shelly. You know just what to say to make me feel better." Stan wiped his face then threw down the towel and stomped down the stairs, Shelly's shrieking voice following him.

"There's nothing wrong with me, turd. Dad, Grandpa and Mom may be screwed up like you but there's nothing wrong with me!"

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out the TV tray in the living room. At least he could be semi-grateful that with the too many guests his parents invited over, he could eat in front of the TV with Grandpa and Shelly. With the way the night had been going, he could possibly hope he would get to choose what channel to watch, but not likely. At least from here, he could sneak eating a frozen TV dinner. Stan had settled himself on the couch and was carefully guarding the remote by hiding it in the couch cushion when his mother came up to him once again.

"No way, young man. We have not finished discussing what we are going to do with you. You're eating in the dining room, with the adults."

Stan, sick of arguing with pretty much everyone in the house, just shoved back his tray and took a seat at the table next to his uncle. He sulked in his chair as his father served everyone.

"Now I want all of you to tell me what you think! I went gourmet and exotic tonight."

Stan stared at the contents of his plate. His mother's classic mashed potatoes were dotted with bits of green: jalapenos soaked in vinegar. A scoop of what looked like grayish applesauce, but was actually a bunch of different vegetables that Stan had failed to peel correctly. Lying across the top half of the plate was a cooked top half of a duck, the head still attached. Stan declined his father's offer of trying it with the special sauce he had prepared to go with their meal. Stan watched the living room as his sister searched for the remote as his grandfather scolded her. He laughed to himself at the small bit of entertainment he was getting at his sisters expense as the adults talked amongst themselves. Ned and the nurse, their heads bent in conversation with each other with the occasional giggle at the other side of the table were getting distracting. Randy passed Stan a basket of garlic toast and Stan gratefully took a piece: at least there was something normal he could eat. He took a small bite. It was garlic-y and sweet. Goddammit.

"Well everybody, dig in!" Randy said and Stan looked in surprise as Nurse Goodly took the literal meaning, shoving her face in the plate as she ate. Shelly had found the remote so this turned into Stan's new source of entertainment. He has seen some similar eating behavior from his friend, Eric Cartman the time he had dinner at his house and Mrs. Cartman had made beefy log and cheesy potato surprise. Mrs. Cartman's cooking far surpassed what his father could come up with. Maybe Stan should be at least a bit grateful that there was never a need to overeat at his own house.

Stan was pondering all this when his mother spoke up and all the adults stopped talking to look at him. "Stanley, why aren't you eating?"

Stan looked at the duck head on his plate again. "I'm...not hungry."

"Oh I knew it! There is something wrong with my baby!"

"Mom, there's nothing wrong with me!"

Nurse Goodly looked up from her plate, jalapeno mashed potatoes on her face. "If I hadn't forgotten my prosthetic arms, I could examine him better, Sharon."

"Mmm I have my fake arm in Jimbo's truck, if you could use that."

"Oh, Ned, you are so sweet! That would be great!"

"Would you like to go out to the truck with me?"

"Yes I'd love you go out with you, Ned! Out to the truck, I would love to go out to the truck with you, Ned."

"Oh ho ho." Jimbo burst out laughing and then tried to cover it up by pretending to cough.

Nurse Goodly turned red and quickly wiped her face on a napkin on the table as Ned smirked over at Jimbo. Both quickly got up and left, out the back door.

The family continued to eat in silence at Sharon watched her son's every move. Stan had been poking his food with his fork but took another bite of the sweet garlic toast to satisfy her. The sound of his father cracking a fresh beer interrupted the silence.

"They're not coming back are they?"

"Knowing Ned, not likely. My truck is locked and he didn't even ask for my keys."Jimbo laughed as he jingled his keys, which had a rabbit's foot keychain attached to it.

Stan noticed the keychain and once again thought of the internet video. He had told Kyle to look up the address to the makeup factory and print out a map, but decided to look for himself as well, and also to get himself away from this ridiculous situation.

"Stanley you hardly touched your food! I know there had to be something wrong with you. I'm calling the doctor after dinner!"

"Mom, nothing is wrong with me. I'm not eating because of dad's cooking!"

Randy jumped up from the table. "Oh, what's wrong with my cooking now, Stanley?"

Stan spoke fast. "It's weird and gross and I hate the way this duck's head on my plate is looking at me!"

"Nothing wrong with that Stanley, it's how they did it on TV!"

"And you put sugar on the garlic bread dad!"

"That's how they do it in England!"

"What? No it's not dad!"

"Jimbo? Sharon? Back me up on this. Tell Stan he's crazy. There's nothing wrong with my dinner. There's something wrong with him!"

"Randy, sit down! What we all mean, Stanley, is maybe you do have something wrong with your stomach. We're just concerned for your well being honey."

"Yeah, Stanley, your stomach is sensitive. There's nothing wrong with my cooking!"

Now it was Stan's turn to jump up at the table. "You know, I am really sick of every member of this family trying to convince me all evening that there's something horribly wrong with me! Sorry if I fade into the background but it's because I come from a family of freaks!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Stan noticed a small green light appear from the living room entrance. Shelly was standing there with a grin on her face holding her father's video camera, happily recording the entire scene and the punishment that was sure to come.

"Stan Marsh!" Randy shouted. "I have had it with you! You are grounded for two, no three weeks. No TV, no video games, no internet and no phone until you learn how to respect the members of this family! There's nothing wrong with us!"

Randy got up and marched up the stairs to Stan's room. If Stan couldn't use the phone he'd never get a hold of Wendy this weekend and she really would break up with him! He got up to follow his father and knocked over the gravy boat filled with the homemade duck blood sauce. It splattered all over his clothing and the carpet. Stan had avoided it for a reason; it looked bad and smelled even worse. Stan started to throw up again as he tripped on his way to his room. His sister laughed as she tried out the zooming feature on Randy's video camera. The sound of stuff being taken out of his bedroom could be heard from downstairs and Sharon stood over her son.

"Mom?"

"I'm calling the doctor now, Stanley. Just go take a shower."

"Mom I'm…fine."

"Just do it, Stanley before we ground you for an entire month!"

Stan didn't want to get into any more trouble so he just got up and obeyed, the video camera following his every move.

"Shelly, no more video camera. Help me clean up this mess."

XxX

Stan took the quickest shower he could. After being called a pussy and the wrong name once again by his grandfather in the hall, he returned to his room to see the damage his grounding has caused. Usually with the lights off the on buttons from all of the electronics in Stan's room could be seen, but now it was extremely dark. Stan sighed as he flipped on the lights. His small TV, Xbox and Wii had been taken. At his desk the monitor, keyboard and mouse had been removed, oddly enough his dad had left the computer tower behind. The cordless phone on the night stand had been taken as well, even if the charger was still there.

With the only thing to do in Stan's bedroom being to actually sleep, he shut off the lights once again to take a nap. The one small glowing piece of technology left behind was his digital alarm clock. Stan grabbed it and set it for 11:45pm. He was to meet Kyle and Kenny by his clubhouse at midnight.


	3. Mission Impossible Breaking And Entering

Dinner at the Broflovski home had been uneventful that evening. Kyle had learned long ago to avoid the subjects of any moral outrage and the "what if"s of life and just enjoy his mother's cooking if he didn't want to start a fight. His mother had tucked him in hours ago, but at a quarter to midnight, Kyle walked the empty streets of his neighborhood towards Stan's house. The snow that always seemed to lightly fall in South Park had picked up heavily that evening making visibility low. Kyle had grabbed his father's industrial flashlight from the garage to make his trip a bit easier. He made it to the Marsh back yard and clicked the flashlight on and off to see if Stan would catch his signal in his room.

The light in Stan's room flicked on and off back at him and after a moment Stan emerged out of the back door. Kyle rolled his eyes at what his best friend was wearing.

"Watch out, Stan Marsh is dressed in all black. He means serious business."

"Shut up. I've had enough shit for one day. Unless you want me to start on your hat…or your hair."

"Fine, fine. I just don't see the point in going all incognito. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"You're not wearing all black to go Goth again are you?"

"What? No! My regular clothes are in the wash so I threw these on. But any extra camouflage is good. I am grounded."

"Good, because the way you were whining about Wendy in chat, I was getting worried. What did you get grounded for, dude?"

"For not believing my family's bullshit."

Kyle had bent down to scratch Stan's dog behind the ears. He looked up at his obviously troubled best friend.

"It can't be that bad can it? Are you okay?"

"Why does everybody keep asking that? Yes I'm fine. I'm still the same Stan nobody notices and I'm perfectly okay with that!"

"Jesus Christ, mellow out dude. I'm just trying to be a good friend."

Just then Kenny entered the yard from the opposite direction. He had been in a pretty good mood that evening. His parents had started fighting during dinner and he and his brother had snagged the remaining pop tart off the plate and split it. Dinner and a show! His smile faltered a bit seeing his friend's faces, not that anyone could see Kenny's face through his hood or anything.

"Hey, dudes, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" Stan said curtly.

Kyle had to roll his eyes again. "I think Stan's mad no one is paying attention to him."

"What? That's not what I said at all, Kyle!"

Kenny laughed at his friend's melodrama. "If you're worried about attention from girls, I think you're fine. My locker is next to Bebe's and she and Wendy would not shut up about you after your dad took you home."

Stan's small burst of anger was replaced by self-doubt. "What were they saying about me?"

"Wendy was embarrassed for having to change clothes and ranting about how it's all your fault and Bebe kept repeating over and over, 'he'll grow out of it, he'll grow out of it.'"

"I really embarrassed Wendy out on the playground, didn't I? Just how many people saw?"

Kyle was still playing with the dog. "I didn't see anything. I wasn't really paying attention though."

"It's the same bullshit that goes on every time Wendy tries to kiss you, it's not that big of a deal, dude. Besides you have Wendy's best friend defending you. Like Bebe said, you'll grow out of it."

"I'll grow out of it? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kyle finally got up. "It means that one day, when you're more mature, you won't puke on Wendy when she tries to be affectionate. Enough of this now: I have the map ready, if you guys want to see it."

"Pull it out in the clubhouse. I don't want the map to get wet from the snow."

Kenny started to giggle. "Can you imagine if Stan didn't grow out of it? Wendy would try to give him a blowjob and he'd puke in her hair? She'd have to wear a shower cap or something."

Kyle joined in on the laughter and Stan responded by grabbing Kenny by the hood and throwing him towards the club house's direction. "Shut up and get up the ladder. We have animals to save!"

Kenny started up the ladder, still giggling and when he reached the top he let out an excited "Whoo hoo!" Kyle was right behind him and quickly clicked on his flashlight at something in the corner. Kenny had gotten an eyeful being the first up the ladder and Kyle had seen a bit but by the time Stan got up there Nurse Goodly had already shrugged her blouse back on. Ned sat up from behind her, his one arm reaching from behind to help her button the front of her shirt. Kyle looked away in horror, quickly shutting off the flashlight while Kenny continued to stare. Stan started to grow angry; even if Ned wasn't related by blood to the Marshes, Stan was sick of everyone even associated with his family.

"What the hell, Ned! This is my clubhouse, we play up here!" Little did Stan know his parents would often do the exact same thing in their son's clubhouse. It was one of the few things keeping their marriage together.

Nurse Goodly's face was beet red as she shrugged on her jacket. "You won't tell your parents about this will you, Stanley?"

Stan was about to respond when Ned interrupted him with his sexy yet mechanical voice. "Mmm, what are you kids doing out so late?"

"Nothing we were just…hanging out." Kyle did his best to hide the map behind his back while Kenny just stared.

"Mmm I'll cut a deal with you Stan. You don't tell anyone about this and I'll look the other way at what you boys are doing."

Stan looked over at his friends and Kyle quickly nodded in agreement. "Okay, deal."

Kenny continued to stare.

Ned smirked back at them, thinking he had gotten the sweet end of the deal. He finished putting on his clothes and climbed one handedly out of the clubhouse. Stan looked down with mild curiosity, to see how a woman with no arms would climb down. Rita jumped and Ned caught her easily. Stan thought it was a bit romantic in a freakish way but Kenny, and Kyle especially didn't care. With the boobs gone, Kenny had snapped out of it and was holding the flashlight while Kyle smoothed the printed out map on the clubhouse floor.

Stan watched Ned and Rita escape out the fence door and then joined his friends in a circle, ready to get down to business. "The company is called Glimmer Corp and it's hidden away in the back woods. The two closest landmarks are Stark's Pond and Mephesto's freaky laboratory. It's way too far away to walk, so we'll have to borrow my dad's truck." Stan pulled his dad's truck keys out of his pocket. While Uncle Jimbo had a rabbit's foot on his keys, Randy's keychain was a bottle opener. Fitting.

Kenny spoke up. "Glimmer Corp? That's a faggy name."

"A faggy name for a company that makes useless products at the expense of hurting animals!"

Kyle sighed at Stan's remark. "I did a bit of research on the company after you stopped responding. They not only manufacture makeup but soap and shampoo as well. Stuff we probably all use every day."

Stan looked down at his hands and clothes with a horrified expression. "Oh God, I bet I just used some of that stuff, I took a shower a few hours ago!"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "So what, Stan? You're not going to take showers now or something?"

"Then Wendy really won't like you anymore." Kenny smirked.

"No! Just, knowing I used some of those products."

"Look, Stan, it's like the veal issue again. I was in that time to save baby cows from ever having a chance at life like I'm in this mission to save cats, dogs and rabbits from having makeup tested on them. Animal testing is necessary sometimes, for medical research. Your life may be saved by it one day."

"I still don't like it, Kyle."

Kenny gave his friends a quizzical look, "You guys tried to save baby cows? Is that why the name changed after I... never mind."

Stan snorted, "Yeah, dude, you didn't remember us doing that? You were probably asleep again."

Kenny just crossed his arms and grumbled to himself as Kyle pulled out a picture of the Glimmer Corp building he had gotten off the Internet, "Here it is, dudes. It looks like a bitch to get inside."

Stan picked up the picture and examined it, "We'll just have to go in through the roof, like last time. Just one problem."

"What?" Kenny said.

"We're going to have to get someone to help us that owns a Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set."

Kyle groaned, "You mean Cartman? We're going to have to ask Cartman to help us rescue animals? We might as well give up now."

"We're not giving up! And besides I might get him to agree somehow." Stan jingled his dad's car keys, "Come on, lets go."

After making sure the coast was clear for Ned and Rita, Stan unlocked his dad's truck and Kenny took his position on the floor to work the pedals.

Kenny and Stan were getting quite good at driving Randy's truck together since they started doing it two years ago. The summer before third grade, Stan had been stuck inside his house all day with no one but Grandpa to watch him. Bored and hungry, Stan kept bothering his grandfather to take him to go eat and out of sheer frustration and no motivation to live, Marvin shoved his car keys and twenty bucks into Billy's hand and told him if he wanted pizza so badly, he could go get it himself. Stan ran down to the friend's house which was closest to his and the two little boys spent the afternoon shakily learning to drive Marvin's blue Impala at a snail's pace until they made it to Whistling Willies where they spent the afternoon having fun. Since then they often took joy rides, usually inviting Kyle along. Kyle refused to have any part in the actual driving, saying it was unsafe for Kenny to be on the floor like that. Stan always insisted he steer since it was always his family's vehicles they 'borrowed'.

Kyle climbed into the passenger's seat and clicked his seat belt into place. Stan, as the driver, had to lean forward on his knees to see over the steering wheel. He started the truck and turned on the windshield wipers full blast to combat the rapidly falling snow. Kenny took his position sitting cross legged on the floor, carefully pressing the gas pedal as Stan tried to back the truck out of the driveway, turning the wheel all the way to the left, causing the truck's back wheel to hop the curb.

"Brake, Kenny! Brake!"

Kenny pressed the brake and Stan put the truck in drive and turned the wheel the other way straightening it out as the boys headed towards Cartman's house.

Kyle looked at the back window. "You guys are getting better at backing up: you didn't even hit the neighbor's trashcan, like last time."

"Yeah, I can drive almost perfectly if we just keep going in a straight line, and my dad hasn't caught on yet either."

"That's because you just have to hold the wheel, Stan. I'm the one down here doing all the work."

"And you do a good job, dude. We're there alrea-BRAKE KENNY BRAKE!"

Kenny slammed on the brake again but with the road becoming icy the car skidded a bit, going past Cartman's house and taking out their neighbor's trashcan.

"I take back what I said." Kyle's hands were gripped tightly around his seatbelt.

"You have to give me more warning than that, Stan!"

"Sorry! We've never driven on roads this icy. I heard my mom telling my dad to go slower than normal. Don't press the gas so hard, Kenny!"

Stan parked the car and the three boys got out. Judging by the glow coming from the window by the front door, the TV was still on. The boys peeked through the window and could see the pause screen from Call Of Duty: Black Ops, with Cartman dozing in front of the TV, Xbox controller still in hand. Stan knocked softly on the glass.

"Psst, Cartman? Cartman, wake up."

Cartman rolled over on the couch and started thrashing wildly in his sleep and mumbling incoherently. Kyle knocked on the front door and shook the door handle.

"Wake up, fatass!"

Cartman threw his controller clear across the room, ripping his headset off and sat up quickly, looking over at the window. He saw Stan in the window and could hear Kyle shouting. God, he hated those guys he hung out with, but they had just woken him up from a nightmare. He could at least give them the pleasure of saying no to whatever they wanted. Besides, any chance to piss off Kyle would at least amuse Cartman more than the crappy game he was playing.

He got up and unlocked the door, "What?"

Kenny giggled at him, "What the hell was wrong with you back there?"

"I was having a horrible nightmare about hippie Jews on welfare, so it makes perfect sense you three assholes show up. What do you want?"

Stan cut right to the chase, "Cartman we need your help."

"No."

"But you don't even know what we're asking for yet!"

"Fine, tell me what you want and I can say no again."

"We need your Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set."

"Oh Christ, that toy is only fun because when you guys ask to use it I can say no. No Stan."

"But we have innocent animals to save!"

"I don't care. You know what? I had little tortured baby cow for dinner tonight, Stan! The new name just makes it funny on top of it being delicious."

Both Stan and Kenny looked horrified and both held Kyle back as he lunged at Cartman.

"You are the biggest piece of shit! Stan wants to save dogs, rabbits and cats. Cats, fatass! You have a cat, or did you eat that for dinner as well?"

Cartman glared at all three of them as he started to close the front door. Stan pushed Kyle back and stuck his foot in the door.

"Kenny, please take Kyle to cool off."

"I can go on my own Stan!" Kyle stomped off towards the car and Kenny shrugged and followed.

Stan looked back to see a small twitch of a smile on Cartman's lips as he watched Kyle stomp around in circles, ranting at Kenny.

"We can negotiate, can't we?"

"Stan, you know I hate you least of all. I'm willing to negotiate, maybe even give you my Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set if the price is right."

Oh boy. "I don't have any money."

Cartman stepped out of his house and placed a hand on Stan's shoulder. They both watched as Kyle grabbed a stick and starting smacking the trunk of the tree in Cartman's front yard. Kenny kept trying to talk to him while trying to avoid being hit at the same time.

"No money needed. I'll give you my Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set and you don't have to do anything at all."

Stan cocked an eyebrow at Cartman. "I don't have to do anything?"

"Kahl on the other hand…"

"Here we go."

"It's nothing bad, Stan. I just think with Kyle's severe attitude problem, a night of readjustment might do him some good. Just look at him: he's awfully angry isn't he?"

Across the yard, Kenny gave up trying to talk to Kyle and grabbed hold of the stick, trying to pull it away from him. Kyle continued to rant and curse as the boys played tug of war.

"Because you made him that angry, fatass."

"There we go with the insults again, Stan. I would like for just one day for you guys, my friends, to only say positive things to me."

Stan frowned and stepped away from Cartman. "I'm nice to you, well…most of the time."

"Which is why I'd love to help you with your little cat and dog problem. You do need my Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set, right?"

"Yeah. But what do you want? Kyle to be nice to you?"

"I don't want to hear Kahl speak, unless it's a direct and honest complement on how kewl I am."

"You want honest comments from Kyle on your good points? I don't think that's possible from either of you."

"I knew you wouldn't go for it, Stan, you pussy. I didn't want to give up my awesome Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set anyway. It's too much fun having it when I know you really want it."

Cartman laughed and started to shut his door again when Stan stopped him. "Wait, I'll at least talk to Kyle. Just go get it, okay?"

Cartman simply smiled and shut the door in Stan's face. Stan took a deep breath and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose in preparation with now having to deal with Kyle and his famous temper. He was well aware that none of his friends really gave half a fuck about animals as he did but they had to at least help because they cared about HIM, right? His family was a lost cause but he could at least count on his friends, right? He probably should have taken Kyle's half-joking suggestion of inviting Wendy to help them out. The fighting might have been worse but she would at least whip them into shape.

Stan watched Kenny and Kyle struggle back and forth, each pulling one end of the stick. Kenny finally let go, causing Kyle to fall forward. Kenny took this opportunity to pin his friend down by sitting on his back. He grabbed Kyle by the back of his hair and shoved his face into the snow, Kyle's ranting quickly being muffled. It was the perfect way to curb Kyle's anger, treat him like a seizure victim.

Stan approached the two. "Jesus, Kenny, where did you learn to do that?"

"My parents and pro wrestling. Maybe my parents watching too much pro wrestling. Or most likely my parents getting too drunk while watching pro wrestling. All of the above?"

"Okay I'm calm now, Kenny, you can let me go now!"

"No! Kenny, keep him pinned for a bit. Cartman will let me keep the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set if Kyle does something for the rest of the night."

Meanwhile Cartman was up in his room, watching the scene from his window. Only when he heard Kyle yell "WHAT?" and struggle to get up, as Kenny and Stan held him down, did Cartman look in his closet for the box to the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set. With all of Kyle's yelling, Cartman was glad his mom stopped answering knocks at her door by 9pm. After cooking dinner, she had gone into her room with some guy to help her do her taxes, or so she said. Cartman knew it was probably bullshit but she left him alone to play Xbox as long as he liked. She just better be up at the crack of dawn to make him pancakes AND waffles with all the fixings and let him choose like she did every Saturday morning.

Cartman came downstairs with the box in his hand to be met with a glaring Kyle held firmly in place between Stan and Kenny.

"Did he agree, Stan?"

"Yeah, he did."

Cartman placed the box in Stan's hands, "It was excellent doing business with you gentlemen."

"Can we just go?" Kyle grumbled.

"Kahl?"

"Can we go…you have nice shoes, fa-Cartman."

"Why thank you, Kahl, my meem got them for me."

Kyle rolled his eyes and made a dramatic show of getting into the truck. Cartman got in as well, shoving Kyle to the side, taking up the passenger's seat and Stan and Kenny took their position in the driver's seat, Stan starting up the truck again.

"Now, Kenny, press the gas slowly. I want to go all the way up Bonanza Street and take Sundance Street all the way into the woods." Stan instructed.

"Why take the long way dude?"

"Whose bright idea was it to name all the streets in South Park after western stuff?"

"Not where I live, Cartman, all the street names are in Spanish over there."

"Well of course I don't count that area, Kinny. It was probably an awesome idea to name all the streets in the ghetto in a foreign language to confuse all the alcoholics hanging around there, hoping they'd get lost and freeze out in the snow."

"Fuck you! Kyle, hit Cartman for me please!"

Kyle swiftly punched Cartman in the back of the head but kept silent.

"Ay! Watch it, Kahl! You have to be nice to me! Stan said so."

All eyes turned to Stan whose eyes were glued to the window on the driver's side of the car. "Can you slow down even more on this street, Kenny? For the weather?"

Kenny obeyed but Kyle had to speak up. "Stan, doesn't Wendy live on Sundance Street?"

"Ay!"

"Doesn't Wendy live on Sundance Street? Cartman I like your…hat."

"Kahl, if you want to be able to talk and let Stan keep my Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set, you're going to have to come up with better complements than that."

Kyle considered punching Cartman again but just crossed his arms and looked over at Stan, whose eyes were glued to the window.

"Yeah, this is Wendy's street. All the lights off are in her house. She must be asleep."

"Of course Stan's stupid girlfriend lives on the one street named after that lame hippie film festival."

"Oh God. I'm going to speed up then, Stan." Kenny pressed the gas as the boys sped up on the rest of the street.

"The Sundance Film Festival was mine and Wendy's first date."

"What are you gonna throw up in the car, Stan?" Cartman laughed.

"You better not! I'm down here helping you drive, asshole."

"What if it's over between us again?"

Kyle had to choose his next words carefully, not only to comply with Cartman, but not to make Stan the mess he was last time he and Wendy broke up. Stan could be such a fucking idiot when it came to his girlfriend but Kyle never liked seeing his best friend depressed.

"You know, Stan, you can't define your entire self on whether you're dating Wendy or not. We spend a lot more time with you and know you so much better than she does. Think about it, Stan we're about to save some animals because of you. You care more than the average person…"

"Kahl?"

Kyle turned to Cartman and gave him a deadpan stare. "And, Cartman, your intellect can only be surpassed by your waistline."

"See, Kahl? Complements aren't that hard to come up with."

At that Kenny stated to laugh uncontrollably while Kyle just smirked. Cartman seemed genuinely pleased at Kyle's complement as Stan ignored them all, hearing that term to describe him again. Average was becoming a dirty word to him.

"I'm above average at caring?"

"See, Stan? When Wendy dumps you, Kahl will be right there to take her place!"

"Fuck you, fatass, I like your shoe..laces!"

"Kahl, the point of my deal with Stan was to either have you be genuinely nice to me or not say anything at all, so shut the fuck up, you stupid jew."

Kyle's mouth hung open for a bit but he looked over at Stan again and kept from lashing out at Cartman. Stan's behavior was really starting to worry him. Cartman laughed and leaned over to switch on the radio, starting to sing at the top of his lungs to Katy Perry's latest hit. Kyle looked like he was about to explode from anger and Kenny held back from telling Cartman just how gay he looked singing pop songs all about pleasing men. Stan continued to ignore his friends, blue eyes fixed on the road, that annoying word running though his mind. Average, average, average.

After taking the long way to the Glimmer Corp building that really was just an excuse to go by Wendy's house, the truck finally arrived at its destination.

"Cartman, you can't make a song featuring Kanye West any worse than it already was!"

"Kahl, you should sing along with Kanye West's part since you don't have a sense of humor either."

"WHAT? Brake, Kenny, Brake right now!"

Kenny slammed on the break as Stan tried to put the truck in park while the wheels still spun, causing the gears of the truck make an ugly screeching sound on the icy road and all four boys to fly forward a bit. Kyle and Cartman held in place by their belts, Stan braced himself against the steering wheel while Kenny slid forward, falling against the pedals and smacking his head on the dash board. Finally, the truck came to a complete stop.

"Goddamnit, Stan, stop thinking so much and watch the fucking road!"

"Sorry! You okay Kenny?"

"Kenny rubbed his head. "Yeah I'll survive. I always do." He said darkly.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Don't worry, Stan, this is your dad's truck. I'm sure you're doing just as good of a job driving as when he's had three or four beers, which is pretty much all the time. Heh heh."

"At least my dad's still alive, fatass. He bugs me but I know I'll never accidentally kill him, or was that on purpose?"

The subject of Cartman's father's death was kind of a touchy subject. Cartman had convinced himself it wasn't actually his fault at all. It was really the ginger kid's faults and possibly the Jews as well. Sneaky Jews always were responsible for something. Cartman quickly covered up his touch of insecurity by ripping on someone who fit perfectly into both of those terrible categories.

"Yeah, Stan, but I'd die if I had any of your parents. Especially Kahl's. All of you assholes have super embarrassing dads but Kahl's has the bitch day-walker mom as well!"

Kyle made a half gurgley half screechy sound in his throat. He didn't want Stan to lose the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set so he shoved his best friend against the steering wheel again in a frantic attempt to get out of the truck and away from Cartman. He stomped off into the blizzard until he was no longer visible.

"Well, it looks like Kahl's ready for this stupid little mission. Lets get this gayness over with." Cartman grabbed the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set's box and handed it over to Stan who was frowning at him. "Oh what now, Stan? Okay, this mission isn't gay if you're into that hippie bull crap, okay?"

"You know, Kyle didn't want you to come along but I needed your help. Can you not be such a dick, at least for mine and Kenny's sakes?"

Kenny raised his hand. "I'm on Kyle's side in this argument you two have."

"Okay, so basically you're here, fatass, because of me. Kenny and Kyle both hate you: pretty much everyone we know does. The only reason you still hang out in this group is I still make an effort to include you. So for fuck's sake, tone down the fighting for one night. I have enough on my mind as it is."

Stan didn't give Cartman or Kenny a chance to respond. He grabbed the box and jumped out of the truck. Slamming the door shut behind him, he went to go look for Kyle out in the snowstorm.


	4. It's What They're Best At

Stan walked along the side of the Glimmer Corp building, his eyes scanning through the snow storm for something green, orange and possibly shouting and destroying property. Instead he found Kyle staring up the side of the building.

"You're calm." Stan said with surprise.

"Yeah, I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me. I'll try to keep my mouth shut the rest of the night. Besides, dude."

"Besides what?

"If I keep quiet and you do actually get to keep the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set, we'll never have to ask him for it again or be forced to invite him along when we do stuff like this. Also I'm pretty sure he uses the set to sneak into my room at night and if I can do ANYTHING to prevent that happening ever again I'll do it."

Stan smiled. "Thanks dude, I owe you, and I will put the set to better use that just fucking with you."

"You'll just use it to fuck with people that deserve it."

"Yep!" Stan set down the box and started going through it, "I do have a question for you, Kyle. Why didn't you want to help me save dolphins and whales last time?"

Kyle thought for a minute for a good response when they were joined by Kenny and Cartman. Kyle quickly clammed up again.

"Hey, Kahl, you rushed off in such a hurry you forgot your flashlight." Cartman had his fake angelic smile as he shoved the industrial flashlight into Kyle's hand. Kyle held his tongue.

"Kahl, aren't you gonna thank me?"

Kyle examined the flashlight in his hand: it was long, heavy and solid, could make a good weapon if needed. "Thank you Cartman, that was…very nice of you."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"No complement, Kahl? Fine, I didn't want to hear your annoying voice anyway."

Kyle gritted his teeth, his hands tightening around the flashlight. It would make a very good weapon indeed. Kyle looked at his other two friends. Kenny was watching him and Cartman expectantly. Stan was ignoring them however, laying out and setting up all the items in the Mission Impossible: Breaking and Entering Play Set. Stan wanted to do so much good with that set, while Cartman would just continue to use it for evil. Kyle took a deep breath, deciding to bite the bullet and blatantly lie to keep Cartman happy. If Kyle was overly nice, maybe Cartman would lose interest and leave him alone.

Kyle mimicked Cartman's sugary sweet smile. "Thank you, Cartman for bringing me my flashlight. You're always so thoughtful. Looking out for me and stuff."

Cartman looked baffled. "Is this some kind of sneaky Jew double bluff?"

"Whatever do you mean, Cartman?"

"I'll get you, Kahl!"

"I'd love to see you try." Kyle smirked as he swung his flashlight like a baseball bat.

Kenny laughed at both of them and shook his head as he went over to see what Stan was doing. Stan had been watching the entire scene out of the corner of his eye while securing a harness around his waist. He grabbed the first piece of the set, a grappling hook attached to a gun, to launch it. Stan shut one eye, taking aim at the roof and fired, the grappling hook gripped the railing on the building's roof. Stan tugged the rope to make sure it was taught and tied the other end of the rope into a sharp metal stake, using the double knot technique his Uncle Jimbo had taught him on one of their many camping trips. Stan recalled, with some annoyance, his uncle calling him soft earlier as he drove the stake into the ground with one foot.

"I'll show you who's soft…dick."

"What was that about soft dicks?" said Kenny, smirking.

"Nothing…here." Stan shoved the blow torch into Kenny's hands and took the rappelling set for himself. "You can climb this rope easily, right, Kenny?"

Kenny looked at the rope and up at the two story building. "It's awfully high isn't it dude? You don't have another harness do you?"

"Here, you can have mine. You're the only one cooperating with me today anyway." Stan quickly unsnapped himself from the harness and handed it over to Kenny, who took it gratefully.

"Thanks, that was really nice of you. I'm just afraid of falling."

"You won't Kenny. I made sure the rope was secure. You just haven't done this before right, when we rescued the baby cows?"

Kenny was busy strapping on the harness and attaching it to the rope when he froze. Stan never remembered his deaths, did he?

"I just don't want to fall. Falling would hurt a lot, it might even kill me Stan." Kenny gave his friend a hard look, sending mental vibes: remember, remember dammit. Stan just looked confused.

"I'll uh, stay down here and hold the rope for you?"

"Whatever, dude." Kenny shoved the blow torch under his hoodie so it was secure and climbed hand over hand up the rope until he reached the roof.

Stan was a bit unnerved at Kenny's attitude change and made a mental note to ask him about it later on, right now Stan had bigger problems to solve, one at a time. He now had to deal with his other two friends. Kyle kept his creepy fake smile on while Cartman continued to try and bait him, glaring the entire time. They had switched roles. If Stan was to get to the bottom of Kenny's bouts of emoness, he would also have to address just how annoying Kyle and Cartman's constant fighting was to the rest of the group. Stan knew Cartman didn't really give a fuck but maybe he could get through to Kyle. Kyle was supposed to know better, wasn't he?

"Your turn, Kyle. Up the rope."

Kyle wordlessly obeyed, tucked the flashlight under his jacket and grabbed the rope, climbing quickly.

Cartman joined Stan at the base of the rope. "Yeah, Kinny might be a wuss, all afraid of falling. Let's see if Kahl is braver."

Kyle was almost at the top as Cartman took the end of the rope and shook it hard. Kyle clung to for dear life. Kenny reached over the railing to grab Kyle's hand and pulled his friend to safety just as Stan pushed Cartman away from the rope.

"Stop that right now!"

"Stan, I was just holding the rope for Kahl, like you were for Kinny, It's not my fault Jews don't have a good sense of balance."

Stan nosebridgepinched. "Just get up there. I'm not going to help you face Kyle and whatever he's going to do to you."

"Now, Stan, you told him to be nice to me."

"Yeah I did. Stupid me. Now get up there."

With a bit of difficulty, Cartman climbed the rope to the top and got onto the roof. Stan quickly followed up the rope and barely got over the edge of the roof to see a large metal object fly by his head and down the side of the building. Kenny had fired up the blowtorch and had been cutting a hole in the side of the building when Kyle ripped it out of Kenny's hand to throw at Cartman's head.

"You son of a bitch, you tried to kill me!"

"Nuh-uh, Kahl, I was trying to help you, since you were being so nice!"

"I was only PRETENDING to be nice to you because of Stan, but fuck you!"

"That's fine! Stan can't keep my Mission Impossible Breaking And Entering Play Set now. This is what I wanted all along!"

Stan was busy unhooking the grappling hook and threw back down to the ground for easy retrieval later. "Nice going Kyle. You couldn't hold back twenty more minutes?"

"How's this my fault, Stan?"

"Kahl's a sneaky Jew, Stan. He went back on his word!"

"Will both of you shut the fuck up and think of the animals instead of yourselves? FUCK!"

"The animals? I only came along to piss off Kahl!"

Kyle launched himself at Cartman, shoving him roughly and screaming in his face. Stan rolled his eyes and went to observe the partial hole Kenny had cut into the roof.

"I'm not breaking them up again."

"Let them fight, Kenny. It's what they're best at anyway. I think with the weight between us maybe we can kick in, make the hole big enough for all of us to squeeze through."

Stan took the rappelling set and tied one end of the rope to an air vent, using the double knot technique again. Kenny took one end of the rope and carefully reattached his harness to it. Both boys held onto the rope as they tried to kick in the weak part of the roof Kenny had already cut. The metal finally gave way. Stan stepped back quickly but Kenny fell through the hole, the harness around his waist catching him in mid fall.

Stan looked down and called after his friend. "You okay Kenny?"

Kenny had shut his eyes, his gloved hands gripping the rope in terror. He slowly opened one eye, only mildly surprised he was not seeing the caverns of Hell but the walls of the Glimmer Corp office. He carefully unsnapped his harness and jumped down, knocking over all the contents on a desk.

"I'm fine, Stan, the coast seems to be clear. Pull Cartman and Kyle apart and get in here. I need a flashlight."

Glimmer Corp had a large lighted sign on top of the building and right now Kyle had backed Cartman against the back of it, holding the flashlight against Cartman's throat and yelling in his face. "I should throw you off the side of this building but I'm not a sociopathic asshole like you!"

Stan casually tapped Kyle on the shoulder. "Kenny needs the flashlight dude."

Kyle released Cartman and stomped off towards the hole in the roof.

"Did you see what Kahl did to me, Stan?" Cartman cried.

"Serves you right, fatass. Come on, let's go."

Kyle had dropped the flashlight down to Kenny and climbed down the rope into the office. Kenny busied himself looking for a light switch as Stan and a still sniffling Cartman followed down. Kenny located the switch in the small office and suddenly the outer room was flooded with light. Stan had tried to mentally prepare himself to see tons of mistreated animals but the other room held nothing but vats of chemicals used to mix the makeup products, the majority of the chemicals glittery.

"The animals must be downstairs. Kyle and I will go check it out, Kenny stay here with Cartman so they're separate."

"Fine with me." Kyle said, stomping out of the office. Stan simply shrugged and followed his best friend, leaving Kenny alone with Cartman.

"Kahl's such a dick. Can you believe that asshole tried to choke me?"

"I heard it. You really did deserve it though. I'm shocked Kyle put up with your little game for an entire half an hour."

Cartman just crossed his arms and continued to sulk. Kenny observed the computer that he'd knocked over when he fell.

"I know something we could do that may make you feel better." Kenny said, with a mischievous grin.

Kyle kept his fists clenched as he located some stairs in the back, stomping down them so his footsteps echoed in the empty building. Stan listened carefully to see if there were any signs of life down stairs, he found himself and Kyle at the end of a long hall with many doors. He carefully walked down the hall shining the flashlight that he had snagged from Kenny into each room.

"Help me find the animals, Kyle."

"Fucking fatass, telling me I went back on my word! What a hypocritical asshole! Can you believe him?"

"Kyle! Animals! Shut up about Cartman!"

"Oh right." Kyle took the right side of the hall while Stan took the left. "But he didn't let you keep the Mission Impossible Breaking and Entering Play Set. Doesn't that piss you off?"

"While I don't agree with him shaking the rope while you were trying to climb it, I do think it's half your fault for being over the top with him. I was half expecting to lose the set before the end of the night anyway but at least we got to use it long enough to get us this far."

At the very end of the hall Stan's beam of light shone through a glass window, the sounds of cages could be heard rattling. Stan's hand went to the door handle. It was locked. He stood on tip toes to peek through the glass; this had to be the animal testing room.

"You knew you would lose the set? You set me up, Stan!"

"I didn't set you up. Maybe I used both of you a bit to get Cartman to go along with it. Kenny and I expect you two to fight, it's nothing new these days."

Stan observed the door lock, seeing only a key card would open it.

"I'm sorry that's all I'm good for then. The one who has to fight Cartman."

"At least you're known for something, Kyle."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, you didn't see any key cards in the upstairs office did you?"

"Not that I remember."

Stan knocked softly on the glass and heard the sound of something small and alive scuffling around in what sounded like cages. This was definitely the animal testing room. Stan looked to the front of the hall at the front door.

"Kyle, check out the front door. It seems to be hooked up to some kind of alarm. Is there any way to disarm it?"

Kyle went to check. "Not that I can see. It seems the only way to get out from the bottom floor."

"Christ. Let me think. What if we set free all these animals and shooed them out the front door? We would probably have enough time for all of us to get to the truck and get away before anyone busts us."

"Good plan, dude. Only problem is that Cartman's fat ass might slow us down as we run to the truck."

"Kyle! Let it go with Cartman! I get that you two hate each other. Jesus, you would murder me if I talked about Wendy half as much as you talk about Cartman."

"Don't compare you whining about Wendy to me complaining about Cartman."

"I'm starting to not really see a difference, other than I LOVE Wendy."

"I-" Kyle sputtered.

"Actually I don't talk about how much I LOVE Wendy as much as you talk about how much you HATE Cartman." Stan smacked the glass on the door again, making the animals inside start to make noise and move around.

Kyle went to stand next to Stan at the door. "I'm sorry, don't be like that. You can talk about your problems with Wendy to me. I'm here for you, dude."

"I don't have problems with her. Right now my problem is how the fuck are we going to get in there with no key card."

"I feel bad that my fighting with Cartman is annoying you. He just pisses me off so much."

"Well I guess we'll just put some of your pent up anger to good use. Kyle you're going to have to break this glass. Don't let any of it get into the animal's cages though."

"What? You want me to punch through the glass?" Kyle just looked at his best friend skeptically.

"Yeah punch it. Pretend the window is Cartman's face. Do it, you'll feel better and it'll help me out."

"I'm not using my hand to break glass, Stan! That's crazy, what if I cut myself?" Kyle held his green gloved hand in front of Stan's face.

"Goddamnit, Kyle." It was Stan's fist that made contact with the glass, punching over and over until little cracks appeared in the window. The racket Stan was making was making the animals scramble around their cages, eventually the glass shattered in the shape of a hole slightly bigger than the size of Stan's fist. Stan shoved his arm through the hole and unlocked the door from the inside.

Kyle started wide eyed at what Stan just did. "You okay, Stan?"

"I already cut myself once today, nothing worse can happen and if it does I'm not afraid."

"You cut yourself? Stan? Stan?"

Stan rolled his eyes and opened the door, he bent down to scoop up the broken glass and threw it in a trash can. "Just help me, Kyle!"

Kyle flicked on the light switch and both boys faced two long rows of cages. Stan immediately turned to the first row of cages and opened it, pulling out a rabbit and carefully placing it on the floor. The animal cages closest to Kyle held a cat, Kyle got to work opening them up. The thought of cats reminded Kyle of Cartman again. "In all honesty, Stan you can talk to be about Wendy. I won't make fun of you and try to help you. You can trust me."

Stan had his back turned, freeing even more rabbits. He turned around holding the last rabbit to his chest, stroking its head with one finger and looking at it carefully. "Some of these rabbits have blisters on their faces, this one is really bad. I think I'll take this one home with me and take it by the vet tomorrow. They won't ask questions, I hope."

"And what about Wendy?"

Stan held the rabbit up to his face, observing the damage, it seemed he was talking more to his new animal companion than Kyle himself. "The only think I will say about Wendy is sometimes she's super lovey dovey and sometimes she's pissed off at me for no reason. My parents are the same way, I'm pretty sure everyone goes through phases like that. The anger I can handle, I just know not to do what my dad does to my mom. The only thing that bugs me is the lovely dovey side of Wendy would be a lot more enjoyable if I would stop fucking puking on her!"

Kyle listened to the entire thing as he went down the row of cages, releasing a bunch of cats. "So is this why we're doing all this? You want word to get back to Wendy so you look all heroic and shit?"

Stan had put the rabbit in his pocket and was continuing releasing all the rabbits down the row of cages. "It's not just for Wendy. The animals really needed my help."

"Yeah, you're doing a good thing, Stan." Kyle had reached the end of his row and spied something interesting on top of a desk, a Polaroid camera. Kyle grabbed the camera and joined Stan who seemed to be stuck at the last cage.

"Look." Stan half whispered. "I think he's dying." Inside the cage in the very back was a piglet lying on its side and breathing heavily. "I'm definitely taking this pig back with us."

Stan was busy unlocking the cage latch and carefully picked up the pig.

"Hey Stan, smile." Stan turned as Kyle took his picture, the pig in his arms. Kyle laughed as he waved the photo back and fourth waiting for it to develop. "Now you have something to give to Wendy as proof you were heroic."

"Maybe I will. Thanks, dude. Here, take the rabbit."

Kyle took the rabbit in his hand as he showed the picture to Stan. "You didn't smile."

"You surprised me, I wasn't ready. Also now I'm worried this company has some kind of deal with a nearby farm, I didn't except to see live stock here. Maybe the little tortured baby cow farm lost money and this is how they're making it up."

Kyle stuck the Polaroid in his front jacket pocket. "If we had the Mission Impossible Breaking And Entering Play Set we could investigate that."

Stan sighed as he picked up the pig and headed towards the exit. "Speaking of Cartman, I assume you don't want to see him, so herd the rest of these animals towards the front door while I get him and Kenny."

Kyle obeyed by busying himself picking up the rabbits that were now hopping around the laboratory floor. Stan held the sick pig as he made his way down the hall and back up the stairs where he left Kenny and Cartman. He pushed open the door with his shoulder and noticed there was sparkly liquid spilled all over the floor.

"Do that one, Kinny!"

Kenny had a broom in his hand going down his own row knocking over vat and vat of ingredients to manufacture makeup off a shelf, spilling the contents and adding to the mess on the floor. Both he and Cartman were laughing hysterically.

"Your turn,Cartman!"

Cartman, with a mop in his hand, shoved a tub off the highest shelf, a large cloud of purple shimmer powder came up, partially covering him.

Kenny laughed even harder. "You're all purple now, fatass! Oh hi, Stan. You set free all the animals already?"

"We did, the only thing is we have to let them all escape out the front door which will probably set off the alarm, so we have to be quick."

Cartman joined them, trying to beat the purple powder out of his coat. "Uh I don't wanna play anymore, Kinny. What's with the pig, Stan?"

"He's sick, Cartman, I was going to take him back with us so I can take him to the vet tomorrow along with a rabbit."

"Oh, I thought that was going to be your new girlfriend."

"Nice to see you got your attitude back with your time spent away from Kyle. Now get downstairs before I kick you in the balls while still holding a sick pig."

"You are such a pussy, Stan, can't take a joke." Cartman obeyed, starting down the stairs while still trying to get the powder off his jacket.

"You coming, Kenny?"

"One second." Kenny did one last run of the shelf, using his broom to knock all the remaining tubs off the shelf, different liquids spilling all over the floor. Kenny tossed the boom to the side and joined his friends on the stairs.

Downstairs Kyle had his hands full, trying to hold as many rabbits as he could while trying to round up a bunch of cats as well. He was in the corner next to the front door trying to shoo a cat from taking a swipe at one of the rabbits. "Guys, help me!"

Kenny quickly rushed over and picked up the remaining rabbit in his free hand, Cartman picked up the cat and patted him on the head. Cats were some of Cartman's favorite animals. He held out the cat to the rabbits Kyle was holding, hoping it'd take another swipe.

"Stop that! Do you need me to kick your ass again after I let these rabbits go?"

"I'd like to see you try, Jew!"

"Did I not just kick your ass less than twenty minutes ago?"

"You just had an unfair advantage."

"What, that I'm not hideously obese?"

"Ay!"

"Will you guys shut the fuck up and sort yourselves out?"

While Kyle and Cartman had gotten into yet another mini screaming match in the middle of the hall, Kenny had gathered the rest of the animals and Stan had his free hand on the door, just waiting.

"I'm sorry, Stan!" Kyle held the wriggling rabbits tighter as he went to the exit. Cartman retrieved the flashlight Kyle left behind and picked it up. He'd teach that stupid Jew a lesson.

"It's okay, Kyle. All of you be ready to run, on the count of three. One… two… three." Stan unlocked the door and pushed it open as the boys stepped out into the blizzard. Stan was expecting some kind of alarm to go off but it remained quiet. Kyle and Kenny ran through the storm and letting the animals they were holding go at the edge of the forest. With a bit of sadness, Cartman let go of the awesome cat that was pissing off Kyle so much, but kept the flashlight in his hand. Stan held back, herding the rest of the animals out of the building. He had just gotten them all out, when the yellow safety light on the outside turned red and a bell went off.

"Get to the truck! The cops will be here soon!" Stan shouted as he one handedly held the pig over his shoulder while getting hold of the truck keys that were in his pocket.

Kenny and Kyle both took off running to meet Stan at the truck, Kyle cursing himself at the last minute as he snapped on his seat belt. "I let the rabbit you wanted to keep go, Stan." He said as he climbed into the truck.

"Dammit Kyle, I wanted to keep him." Stan climbed in and put the pig sitting next to him on the driver's side and quickly turned on the truck.

Meanwhile, Cartman was cursing even more, running around the front of the building gathering the abandoned pieces of his Mission Impossible Breaking and Entering Play Set.

"Just leave it, fatass!" Kyle shouted from the truck.

"This set was expensive! I thought you Jews cared about stuff like that!"

"Ugh just leave him, Stan, let him take the fall for it."

"Ay I heard that! If I get any cop other than Barbrady I'm telling them you assholes put me up to it, which is true anyway!"

Cartman had grabbed the blowtorch and grappling hook set, yanked the sharp stake out of the ground and half jogged, half waddled, as only fats kids can do, to the truck. He threw the items on the floor and jumped inside, throwing on his seat belt. As Kenny held the gas down all the way Stan put the truck into gear and the frozen wheels spun and then finally the truck jutted forward into the forest just as blue and red police sirens could barely be seen through the snow on the opposite side of the building. The boys had managed to escape but the truck was speeding though the forest. Stan was trying his best at keeping the steering wheel steady while trying to avoid hitting anything.

"You assholes were going to leave me!"

"Well Stan stayed behind for you so if we get caught it's your fault."

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR SHIT, KAHL!" Cartman grabbed Kyle's industrial flashlight and smacked Kyle on the head with it.

"FUCK YOU!" Kyle punched Cartman right in the nose and again in the mouth causing Cartman to spit blood.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Cartman swung the flashlight so it made contact with Kyle's forehead.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP BOTH OF YOU! BRAKE, KENNY, BRAKE!" Stan shouted and jerked the wheel sharply to the right, barely missing a large tree. Kenny pressed the brake all the way down but due to the bad weather, the tires locked up and caused the truck to skid. The driver's side slammed into a huge, solid metal gate that belonged to the laboratory of Dr. Alphonse Mephesto. The objects and people in the car flew, the sharp metal stake from the Mission Impossible Breaking And Entering Play Set impaling Kenny through the chest on impact. Stan's head made contact with the window in a sickening cracking sound as the pig he had tried to save crashed up against him. Kyle reached out to his friend, everything seeming to go into slow motion before Cartman smacked him again on the head with the industrial flashlight, knocking him out.

Everything went quiet as Cartman looked over at his three unconscious, injured and possibly dead friends. Cartman smacked Kyle on the head twice more with the flashlight and then got out of the truck. He was really familiar with where they had ended up. Cartman walked to the edge of the forest and threw the flashlight as far as he could so no one would ask questions. He then gathered the pig over his shoulder the way Stan had done and made his way up the hill towards Dr. Mephesto's laboratory, singing Lady Gaga's Judas softly to himself. He was on good terms with the old genetic engineer, maybe he could barter some pig DNA for medical attention for himself, and maybe his asshole friends as well.


	5. Blame The Tree Hugging

Kyle had been in the hospital many times before, but as he slowly opened his eyes he could tell immediately the place he was in was not a hospital. For one thing the walls were made of some kind of stone and he was tucked into a huge king sized bed. Also Stan would usually be sitting by his bedside whenever Kyle was hospitalized.

Stan!

Kyle shot up in bed but quickly laid back down as he felt a sharp pain in his head. Slowly the memories of the night before came flooding back to him. He and Cartman had been fighting while Stan drove the truck by himself. Kyle's last clear memory was seeing his best friend's head smack against the window, that ugly sound would never get out of his mind. Was he okay?

Once again Kyle tried to sit up in bed but his head hurt too much. He took off his hat while staring up at the ceiling, feeling the many bumps on his scalp, his hand coming away with dried blood on his fingertips. Cartman, that son of a bitch! As soon as Kyle felt better he would be sure to get him and Stan out of wherever they were and call the cops on Cartman as soon as possible. This mess was his fault after all.

Kyle propped himself up with some pillows to get a better look at the room he was in. The cold stone walls were brightened up by posters of popular cartoons like Red Racer and Kyle's own beloved Terrance and Phillip, there was a table to one side that held a chemistry set, a large shelf took up the opposite wall filled end to end with various books and movies, a large flat screen TV hung on the wall directly in front of the bed he was tucked into. Kyle could've sworn this was a kid's bedroom, but the walls didn't look like any of the houses in town.

Kyle sighed and laid back against the pillows, continuing to examine what was on the shelf. His eye was drawn to three complete box sets of Star Trek: The Original Series plus all six movies. Damn Stan and his love for 60's and 70's tv shows, Star Trek was one Kyle had gotten into through him. Kyle curled up under the blankets, sick with worry over his best friend and the ache in his own head. Stan had to be okay, right?

Kyle was snapped out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. In walked Dr. Mephesto leaning on his cane followed by his monkey-like assistant, Kevin. Kevin held a tray with a glass of water and a small plate with a cover.

"Ah Kyle, good to see you're awake. You were out for quite some time."

For quite some time? "How are my friends?"

"Young Eric Cartman showed up at my door saying there had been a terrible accident. I wasn't going to fall for that old trick again but he was bleeding and convinced me to let him in. We found the rest of your group a several hours later."

Several hours later? Kyle would be sure to yell at Cartman over that later but he had bigger concerns. "And Stan? How is Stan?"

"The condition of Stanley Marsh we'll get to in a minute. I want you to focus on yourself for a bit. I brought something for you."

Dr. Mephesto nodded at Kevin who stepped forward, placing the tray on the side table of Kyle's bed. He lifted the cover to reveal a rather large black pill.

"Now Kyle, I'm sure you have quite a headache. I want you to take this. It should help you."

"Stan's okay though isn't he?"

"Kyle, please take the pill. You should feel better in less than five minutes."

Kyle propped himself back with the pillows and took the glass of water, he picked up the pill and turned it around in his hand. "If I take this you'll take me to see Stan?"

"If you take it your headache will go away, your injuries should heal quickly and you'll be able to get up and walk around, so in a way, yes." Dr Mepehsto sat at the edge of Kyle's bed and pulled out a clip board, leaning forward in observation.

Kyle hesitated, then carefully placed the pill in his mouth taking a drink of water, he swallowed, slightly creeped out at how the old genetic engineer was looking at him. The glass of water shook slightly in Kyle's hand. "Now can I see Stan?"

Dr Mepehsto checked his watch. "Wait a few minutes young man, then try to sit up, and tell me immediately if you feel anything abnormal."

Kyle's hand was shaking so badly the water sloshed over the glass and onto the comforter. He quickly set the glass down. "But Stan…"

"Please, get your mind on something else Kyle. You'll only agitate yourself further and I want to see you feel better."

Kyle grumbled and laid back down in the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. His eyes scanned the room again. "This is an interesting room to have in the middle of a laboratory."

"Thank you, you're actually staying in my son's room. Eric wanted the guest room."

"This is your son's room? You mean Terrance?"

"Yes, Terrance went away to Yardale on scholarship at the beginning of his fourth grade year to focus on science. It's a boarding school where he's away one semester at a time so his room is vacant until he returns in the end of April."

Kyle racked his brain for conversation that didn't have anything to do with asking about Stan. He looked around the room for a distraction. His eye went to the Fat Abbott calendar, noting it was the last week of February. "That's a while away. Doesn't it get awfully lonely here all by yourself?"

"I have Kevin to assist me but mostly I enjoy my solitude to focus on my projects. Now tell me Kyle, do you feel any different?"

"I don't know."

"Try sitting up without supporting yourself."

Kyle pushed himself up and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

"How do you feel Kyle?"

"My head doesn't hurt anymore, it feels clearer as well."

"Good, good. Try getting up and walking around."

Kyle got out of the bed easily and headed towards the door. "I'm totally fine so I'm going to go look for Stan now."

Dr Mephesto had his head bent over his clip board making notes. "Hold on Kyle, go wait in the lobby until I'm ready for you, and tell me if you feel any side effects."

Kyle walked out into the hall and followed the sound of a TV into what looked like a living room. Cartman sat at a table watching an episode of The Simpsons, in the middle of the table sat a freshly baked cherry pie which he was helping himself to. Kyle cautiously sat opposite of him.

"Fatass? Where's Stan?"

"You don't really remember anything do you Kahl?" Cartman said with his mouth full.

"Not really, just a certain asshole smacking me in the head with a flashlight and a crash. Is Stan alright?"

Cartman rolled his eyes and took another bite. "You know that freaky little monkey guy is a pretty good cook."

Kyle slammed his fist on the table. "Dammit Cartman is Stan okay?"

Cartman paused to take a drink of milk, a very serious expression on his face as well as a milk moustache. "Kahl, Stan's dead."

The color drained from Kyle's face. He shut his eyes, a few tears squeezed out. "No, it can't be."

Cartman burst out laughing. "Oh Kahl, you're actually crying, and I thought Stan was the pussy of the group…may he rest in peace."

"You heartless bastard, Stan's dead and you laugh at me for feeling sad over it? Fuck you!"

"Oh man, Kahl. You're going to regret saying that."

Kyle stared at the TV, trying to make sense of the situation. He wiped his eyes and turned back to Cartman. "It's Sunday isn't it?"

"Yeah they always show The Simpsons on Sundays, shame Dr Mepehsto doesn't have cable. We will not watch Family Guy after, Kahl. I think I've suffered enough."

"Dr Mephesto said I was out for a while, when did Stan die?"

"He gave you some medicine didn't he?"

"Yes." Kyle sniffed.

"Good because Stan isn't dead."

Kyle clenched his fists. "What? Why the hell would you say something like that to me!"

"To make you cry, your tears amuse me so."

"Arg!" Kyle grabbed Cartman by the collar, dragging his across the table, causing Cartman's shirt to be covered in cherry stains. "If Stan's not dead where the hell is he?"

"Ow, goddammit you're such a dick, Kahl." Cartman pushed himself away from the table and held his stomach. Kyle noticed something drastically different about him.

"Cartman, your gut isn't hanging over your belt like usual. What the hell is going on here?" Kyle sniffed and wiped his eyes again, he was more pissed off than sad but still the tears wouldn't stop.

"Dr Mephesto needed some DNA from me so I let him try liposuction. Don't I look buff?"

"What the fuck? Why did you let him do that?"

"The only reason Dr Mepehsto would let in was if he could fix our injuries by testing some stuff he was working on. He's planning to fix us all!"

Kyle couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You sold us out for genetic experiments! You son of a bitch! I'm going to find Stan and get us out of here right now!"

"If you hadn't broken my nose in the car, which Dr Mepehsto fixed by the way, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

Kyle got up, ready to break Cartman's nose all over again. His eyes were still blurred by tears though. "How is this my fault? This is your fault for hitting me first!"

"How about we just call it even and blame it on Stan and his tree hugging?"

"WHERE THE HELL IS STAN?"

"He's…fucked up. Dr Mephesto will explain."

"It's true." Dr Mephesto entered the room, clip board in hand.

"What's wrong with my best friend?" Kyle cried, the tears coming full force.

"You ran off in such a rush I didn't have time to warn you. For the first half hour after taking the medication I developed if the test subject produces any extra fluids, crying or other bodily functions, they will continue to do so for an undetermined amount of time."

"Other bodily functions?" Cartman jeered.

"Undetermined amount of time?" Kyle cried.

"Damn, I should've tried to make you use the bathroom." Cartman laughed.

"You're the first human I've seen to do this Kyle. You tell me immediately when you stop crying." Dr Mephesto took more notes on the clip board. "This is fascinating, you may be suffering now but in the long run you'll be helping science."

Kyle suddenly felt very much like one of the rabbits or cats he and Stan had set free. "Can you just take me to see Stan now, please?"

"Do you mind stepping into my office for a bit? I'll go over the details of Stanley's condition in there."

Kyle numbly got up, while continuing to wipe his eyes and nose. His jacket sleeve was becoming quite soggy. He followed the old genetic engineer back into the hall into another room.

Dr. Mephesto's office was tastefully decorated and well lit. A huge glass topped desk held high stacks of papers and folders, a row of filing cabinets were along on wall. Kyle took a seat in a high leather backed chair, he faced a huge covered window. It was most likely still snowy outside but judging from the light coming peeking out from behind the curtains it burned bright, more like the sunshine in a tropical location.

Dr. Mephesto took a seat at his desk. He sympathetically slid a box of Kleenex over to Kyle who took a few. "I'm unsure if your crying is a side effect from your medication or of your agitated state. Please try to calm yourself."

"You keep putting off telling me what happened to Stan. Just out with it already!" Kyle wept openly into a fistful of tissues.

Dr Mephesto continued to observe and take notes. He then slowly unclipped his data sheet and placed it into a manila folder marked "Kyle Broflovski" He got up from his desk and went over to one of the filing cabinets, carefully replacing Kyle's folder. He then pulled out a much thicker folder marked "Stanley Marsh" and returned to his seat.

"There is no easy way to tell you this. When we found you two in the truck it was below freezing outside and both of you were starting to suffer the effects of hypothermia. My assistant and I brought you two in, we could tell you would okay after you were warmed, you just had a concussion. Stanley however was pretty near death, his jacket was much thinner than yours and his head injury was much more severe. His brain damage might most likely be permanent. But that thin jacket might have saved Stan from dying all together, his lowered body temperature slowing down any blood flow in his brain. It gave us more time. I did what I could for him, made him comfortable but the outlook is grim."

While he had heard everything Dr Mephesto had just told him, after hearing bad news twice his mind refused to believe it. This has not happened, it was all a bad dream and Stan was perfectly fine. Kyle's mind grasped at straws, did mental gymnastics, fantasy, imagination- which he had proved was real. He wished on dumb things like stars. This should not and therefore was not happening.

But Stan has always been a realist and so Kyle would have to be one as well.

"There's nothing that could be done? Why haven't you taken us to the hospital yet if it's been two days?"

"There is nothing current medical technology could do to save your friend, but the reason I kept you boys here has to do with just who Stanley Marsh is. I think I could undo this damage."

Maybe Kyle's wishing had worked. "Undo it? How?"

"I had already worked up a prototype using the vast amount of Stanley's DNA I had stored in my laboratory. He is actually the perfect candidate for my experiment."

"Why do you have so much of Stan's DNA?"

"I have DNA samples of a lot of South Park's citizens but probably the most I had belonged to Stanley Marsh, leftover from his clone. I've even used some of it in a few different experiments. I also have a large amount of Herbert Garrison's DNA, but that's because he keeps leaving samples of it all over town. He would make a good candidate for my experiment as well."

Kyle took another bunch of tissues and blew his nose again. "What were you planning to do?"

"I worked up a prototype to replace the damaged parts of Stanley's brain with new material mostly from the DNA I already had. I have done the procedure many times on all sorts of different creatures. It's how I've been able to splice so many different animals. I just never managed to try this process on an actual human and this opportunity just fell into my lap. This would not be the first time I've experimented on Stanley. He's come out okay the last few times. Not only do I have many DNA samples from him but also an exact copy of his brain left over from his clone. I have all the information I need, the only thing holding me back is you, Kyle."

"Me?"

"The only problem is working with humans is very different that working with animals or plants. I am aware of the super best friends clause where one BFF has control over another BFF's medical decisions. I am asking for your permission."

"My permission? I'm not too sure."

"If my theory holds up and the process is successful, you won't even notice a difference at all. You can have your friend back and I can finally go for that Nobel Prize I've had my eye on for years. I have examples of other creatures I've done experiments on if you would like to take a look."

Kyle nodded slowly and Mephesto drew back the curtain to the window behind his desk. Kyle got out of his seat, still holding the box of Kleenex to his chest to get a closer look.

The middle of Mephesto's laboratory held a huge indoor garden, filled with lush tropical plants. Kyle could see many large cages each housing different animals, most of them different combinations, spliced with each other, the majority with multiple asses.

"It looks like a zoo."

"Yes this is where I house all the animals I have done experiments on. It can be challenging, feeing and caring for them all but where other place in society would these creatures have to go?"

"It's impressive." Kyle wiped his eyes and stuck the mound of tissues he had accumulated into his jacket pockets.

"You can have a look around if you like. See for yourself what I have created and how I can fix Stanley in the exact same way." Dr. Mephesto opened a back door from the office and gestured down a flight of stairs. "Go ahead."

Kyle held the box of tissues like a security blanket as he walked down the stairs into the zoo. It may have been freezing cold outside but in here the temperature was mild. Kyle turned around to ask Dr. Mephesto how he kept this place climate controlled in the middle of the Colorado Mountains when he saw the door shut behind him. The doctor had left him to admire his experiments guessed and to make his decision in private.

He found himself on a long path and started walking, looking at all the different creatures. He turned directly in front of the first cage…no habitat of a giant Galapagos turtle that just happened to have five asses. The tears were still rolling down Kyle's cheeks and he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. He'd better calm down now rather than have Cartman gloat over the state he had put him into.

Kyle continued down the path, still wiping his eyes with the tissues and then stuffing them into his pockets. The next habitat was semi frozen, penguin like creatures with huge legs bouncing around. For this reason this habitat was sealed off with glass. Kyle pressed his back against the glass and slid down, he had to sit. He was too overwhelmed. He buried his face into his knees, trying to force the tears to stop. What kind of pill did that crazy doctor give him?

Kyle grabbed another handful of used Kleenex, the side pockets in his jacket were full so he opened his front pocket to deposit the tissue, there was something in there he had forgotten about. Kyle pulled out the photograph he had taken of Stan the other night, sniffling as he stared at it. Stan's photo frowned back at him, his eyes unfocused, holding the pig. Would this Polaroid be the last memento Kyle would have of Stan as he knew him? Kyle studied the photo. For having a concussion or whatever happened to him he felt pretty good, physically anyway. Even if the crying side effect was getting annoying. Kyle again took off his hat. The bumps on his head were gone. He would assume his face would be bruised as well but taking a look at his reflection in the glass of the pengiroos habitat he looked normal.

Maybe Dr Mephesto really did know what he was talking about. If current proven medical technology would be useless maybe he should take a gamble on mad science. Kyle had healed remarkably well and all the animals that surrounded him seemed happy and healthy. Stan had always loved zoos and aquariums and Kyle wondered what his best friend would think of where he was right now. Would he really never have that opportunity again? To ask his best friend a simple question? This thought made his stomach hurt, almost turn, the same thing that had prompted Stan to want to do all this in the first place. Maybe Kyle was a bit too used to always having Stan be there for him, he wouldn't admit to being co dependant but he did rely on Stan a lot. Now Stan needed him and it was his decision. He could fix all this, with Dr. Mephesto's help.

The Kleenex box was empty now and Kyle transferred the used tissues back into the box, carefully replacing the photo in his pocket. He rubbed his eyes, not quite ready to deal with Cartman, but really when was he ever? He made his way up the stairs and back into Dr. Mephesto's office, finding it empty. Kyle shrugged and walked out into the hall and back to the TV room to find Cartman flipping channels on the TV and eating popcorn. Kyle suddenly realized his stomach turning wasn't just anxiety, it hit him how hungry he was. He sat at the table again, looking for the pie, or any food at all. He placed the box of Kleenex on the table but said nothing, he knew better than to try and share food with Cartman. He didn't want to be yelled at like a cat.

Kyle's eyes went from the box of Kleenex, to the popcorn, to the TV. He had to approach the subject of food very carefully. He remembered one of the last things Stan had told him, how sick he was of his and Cartman's constant fighting. He mulled over the details of the car accident trying to remember what he and Cartman had been arguing about when they crashed, was it any different than any other day the three of them hung out? Kyle felt a twinge in his stomach, not just with hunger, it was guilt. The car crash was just not just Cartman's fault, it was probably his as well. Kyle wiped away another storm of tears with the back of his hand, he deserved this. Stan did not.

Cartman munched on his popcorn, his eyes flicked to Kyle. "What the hell are you staring at?"

"I wasn't staring, I….never mind."

"Heh heh, you're still crying."

"Can you please not start with me? A truce until we know Stan is okay? Please?"

"Whatever I'm not the one with a staring problem. I think the re run of Terrance and Phillip from last Wednesday is showing soon." Cartman continued to flip the channels when Kyle caught a glimpse of his own face on the TV screen.

"Cartman, turn it back."

"The fuck Kahl? You want to watch the news? Terrance and Phillip may suck these days but it's better than the fucking news."

"Just do it, fatass. I think we might be in trouble."

"Don't call me fat." Cartman narrowed his eyes at Kyle but turned it to the news, just to see his own face flash across the screen for a moment, then they flashed Stan's picture. "-and Stanley Marsh, all of South Park, Colorado have been missing since the early hours of Saturday morning. Anyone with any information leading to the three boy's safe return please contact the police immediately. A substantial reward is being offered by their families."

The news flashed another picture, this time of Kyle, Stan and Cartman, nearly a year old from some school event. Cartman hated that picture, made him look so…big boned. He was skinny now. "They think we're missing, Kahl?"

Kyle's stared at the screen, wiping his eyes with napkin after napkin from the holder off the table. "Well we haven't been home in two days, makes sense for our parents to call the police. I wonder if they reported Stan's dad's truck missing as well?"

"Do you think?" Cartman put his hand on his chin, in deep thought.

"That we should tell them where we are? I kind of wanted to talk to Dr. Mephesto first."

"No, do you think if I called and turned you two assholes in I could collect the reward money?"

"Is that all you care about? Stan is really hurt because of us…mostly you."

"I thought we agreed earlier that was Stan's own damn fault. The least I could do was get some money out of this."

Kyle grabbed the box filled with his used Kleenex and threw it at Cartman's head, Cartman knocked it away midair. "Stop that Kahl. Look we made the news again. I told you this was all Stan's fault."

"Now we go on the scene with a hideously deformed man eating a popsicle."

This time on the TV screen flashed a picture of Glimmer Corp with a man in a suit shoving a popsicle half into his mouth and half through his cleft lip. "Thanks Tom. More bad news for the local cosmetics factory, Glimmer Corp which we reported earlier was vandalized and robbed of its testing animals. The local police most likely attributing that to eco terrorists."

Cartman burst out laughing. "Haha, you and Stan are eco terrorists! That is beautiful."

"Are we in trouble?"

"Probably, serves you right. Eco terrorist sounds better than tree hugging pussies like I would have called you."

"Shut the fuck up Cartman, I want to see if they knew it was us."

The hideously deformed man finished off his popsicle, wiping at the stains that had dribbled down on the front of his suit. He paused as he unwrapped another popsicle. "We now have just confirmed the same building has caught fire a few hours ago. I'm here with fire fighter chief Ryan Valmer to give us more perspective."

Fire Chief Valmer appeared on camera, dressed in his uniform, covered head to toe in ash as the hideously deformed man stuck a microphone in his face, other hand still holding his popsicle. Jimmy's dad looked uncomfortable as he started to speak. "We did what we could to contain the fire but in the end we couldn't save the building. From our preliminary investigation the cause of the fire points to arson, possibly the same people who robbed it a few days ago…"

Kyle buried his head in his hands. "Change it to Terrance and Phillip now. I can't bear to hear anymore."

"Ohh you and Stan are in trouble."

"We did not burn that building down. We were here this entire time! We might have set free some animals but that building catching fire was not our fault."

"Now Kahl, they said it was arson, someone had to be responsible. You are Stan are screwed, well Stan was already screwed up from that night but now you can match him."

"WE DID NOT BURN DOWN GLIMMER CORP!"

"Well what are you going to do? Cry about it? Oh wait."

Kyle jumped up from the table and Cartman braced himself to be hit again, instead Kyle grabbed the TV remote and shut it off.


	6. Stan Rhymes With Man

Cartman reached out to try and grab the remote one more time but Kyle shot him a death glare and slapped his hand away again. Cartman retreated, a small smile on his face. "You're so funny when you're angry, Kahl."

Kyle continued to stare down Cartman, tears streaming out of his narrowed eyes. Dr. Mephesto and Kevin entered the room, breaking the stale mate. "I would like to inform you two boys that I have just successfully spliced the pig DNA Eric gave me. Thank you for your contribution to science."

Cartman smile grew even wider as his voice grew sweeter. "No problem, Dr. Mephesto, I'm always willing to help…for science."

Kyle sighed at Cartman sucking up to the adults yet again. He walked back to the table to grab the last of the package of napkins to wipe his eyes and nose.

Dr Mephesto took a seat across from Kyle and checked his watch again. "Still crying I see. It's been almost an hour. I guess I should thank you for your contribution to science as well."

"I-I made my decision."

"Ah yes, onto my next hopefully successful experiment, what have you decided, Kyle?"

"Do it. If there is any chance to fix Stan I have to take it: he's my best friend and I wouldn't know what to do without him." Kyle had been crying in small amounts but his voice cracked with emotion as he buried his face into a handful of napkins.

"Goddamnit, Kahl, you are such a fag." Cartman snickered.

"Kyle you mentioned fixing Stan. My job is to take beings and make them better than before. Do you have any suggestions on how I could improve your friend?"

Kyle looked up from wiping his eyes. "What the hell? Is Stan the Six Million Dollar Man now?"

"Well "Stan" rhymes with "man", Kahl."

"No! Stan was just fine the way he was."

Cartman's fake sweet smile returned. "I think you could improve him, Dr. Mephesto, in many ways. Stan was such a pussy."

"Well, boys, the reason I ask is that I've done this experiment many times on different animals. This is the first time I'll try it on a human. As I stated before working with humans holds a different set of problems than working with animals. I can fully restore all his basic living functions. He can walk and talk just like before. What separates working on a human rather than an animal is the personality. The reason I ask is that there's the question of Stanley's personality. I need all the input I can get to get it right: either how Stanley was before or how we can improve him."

Kyle's mouth dropped open and his handful napkins fluttered to the floor. "You can make Stan well again but there's a chance he won't have the same personality? How could you do that?"

"See, Kyle, this is I need your help to describe him the best you can to me. His future depends on you. I can tell you and Stanley were close."

"He was my best friend."

"It shouldn't be that difficult then."

"I don't know, Dr. Mephesto, just there's so much riding on it."

Cartman had been watching both of them, munching popcorn and quite enjoying just how upset Kyle was. It was better than anything on TV, since that stupid Jew took the remote. "Oh come on, Kahl it's not that hard. Like I said, Dr. Mephesto, Stan was a pussy. You should fix it so he's not such a pussy anymore."

Dr. Mephesto took out a pen and started to make notes on his clip board. Kyle saw the word 'pussy' written very large in the Dr.'s neat handwriting. "No! Don't listen to him; he hates us all. I'm Stan's best friend: I should be the one to do it."

"Go ahead then, Kyle, describe Stan to me."

Kyle blew his nose one more time and took a deep breath, trying to get the right words out. "Stan wasn't a pussy, he was tough. He-"

"Oh please, Kahl, he was always complaining about his family or going on about his stupid girlfriend, crying about saving the whales and other stupid bull crap. He would cry more than you're crying right now."

"Oh so Stan's a pussy for caring about stuff? At least he has feelings! He wasn't a selfish asshole like you are! It's your fault I'm crying!"

Dr. Mephesto sighed. "There seems to be a radical difference on opinion. Can we just say Stanley was somewhere in the middle? Do you boys agree?"

"Agreed," said Cartman.

"Agreed." Kyle sighed as he bent over to pick up the napkins he dropped.

The Doctor made a few more notes. "Go on Kyle, keep describing Stan to me."

"Sorry. Stan was smart and he'd always try to do the right thing."

"Excuse me Kahl, but don't you think you're describing yourself?"

"No! It's not my fault me and Stan are similar. It's probably why we're such good friends. Unlike you."

"Hey, Stan was my sort-of friend too!"

Dr. Mephesto tapped the side of his clip board with his pen. "Can you please continue, Kyle? We don't have much time. Not if I'm going to finish this by the morning."

"Dr. Mephesto, I can tell you all I can about Stan but not in front of him." Kyle pointed accusingly at Cartman. "He's trying to mess me up on purpose!"

"The fuck? No I'm not. I'm telling it how it is. You're the one who's going to screw up Stan's personality!"

"Fine! Cartman, you think you know Stan better that I do, tell him. Tell the doctor your own take on Stan's personality since I'm doing such a shitty job at it. I was only his best friend!"

Dr. Mephesto wasn't taking notes anymore, he was just sitting back watching the two boys argue, exchanging uncomfortable looks with Kevin.

"It's true, Dr. Mephesto that Stan and Kahl are quite similar, always going on about what great best friends they are, which would make any outsider think they were totally gay for each other. But I doubt Kahl's ever stopped to think why I hate Stan less. Stan can take a joke. Kahl just explodes into anger, which amuses the hell out of me. It's probably why we keep him around in the group."

"We're not gay; Stan has a girlfriend for fucks sake! You're the one in the group no one likes to be around."

"See, he can't take a joke and Stan liked having me around."

"Stan's nice to everyone."

"Not really, Kahl, he was kind of dead pan and sarcastic. A smartass. You couldn't bullshit him."

"Okay so he puts up with you."

"He puts up with you too, Kahl, his stupid dad, that bitch, Wendy. He puts up with a lot of people."

"There's a lot more to Stan than just the people around him!"

"Maybe. Or if it weren't for the people around him, Stan would be pretty boring on his own."

"What? Stan isn't boring!"

Dr. Mephesto slammed his clipboard down on the table, interrupting the argument. "Boys! That is enough! I have a simple solution. I put you two in separate rooms and have you write out your own different take on Stanley's personality. I'll collect the papers at the end and use my best judgment."

Kyle turned from shouting at Cartman to Dr. Mephesto. "How will you know if you've got Stan's personality right then?"

"Have faith, Kyle. I've worked with Stanley before. Now who wants to stay and who wants to leave?"

Kyle raised his hand. "I'll go. Cartman's annoying presence has overtaken this room anyway."

Before he could hear Cartman's response, Kyle jumped up and went out into the hallway. He walked down the hall, opening and closing all the doors. He was unsure where Dr. Mephesto was keeping Stan but suddenly he wanted to see him. He poked his head into each room looking for his best friend. Kyle found the room he had woken up in, then a library and finally a kitchen. No laboratory or hospital room. He cautiously walked into the kitchen to throw all the napkins in his pockets away. He eyed the huge double refrigerator. As desperate as he was to see Stan he was also terribly hungry. Kyle wondered what the etiquette was if you wanted something to eat while being held hostage by a crazy genetic engineer who was using you as a guinea pig.

A moment later Kyle was joined by Dr. Mephesto and Kevin. "Ah the kitchen, a fine choice. Surrounded with food that gives us nourishment to help sustain our minds for the task I have for you."

"Thanks." Kyle said unenthusiastically, he went to the kitchen table and grabbed another handful of napkins for his eyes. "Can I ask what was in that medicine you gave me and if you have any idea of when I'll stop crying?"

"There has been extensive research done on the healing properties of sea cucumbers. I took their basic DNA structure for healing and made it into a pill that can be taken orally. A few other basic characteristics also come out in test subjects, mostly due to sea cucumbers being underwater creatures. It affects the water levels in the body. It's the main flaw that prevents me from seeking out a patent on the medication."

Kyle took a seat at the table. "That's what you do isn't it? Use animal DNA in your experiments. Can I please ask you don't put any animal DNA into Stan?"

"No animal DNA, got it. I can probably use something synthetic if I need spare material."

"Also, please do not give him multiple asses. That's just not right on a human."

Dr. Mephesto nodded and quickly took out his clip board to make notes. "Anything else Kyle?"

"I know one way you can improve Stan from the way he was before. Make it so it's harder for him to throw up. Make it so it's practically impossible. Do that as a favor to me…and this girl we know."

"Alright, no animal DNA, only one ass and fix Stanley's gag reflex. Is that it?"

"I think so."

"Okay good." Dr. Mephesto placed a piece of paper in front of Kyle, face down. "This is the sheet on Stanley's personality that I want you to fill out. Please do it carefully. As for your other question, I'm unsure when your crying side effect will subside but I suggest that after you finish your paper, you go to sleep and see if it has stopped by the morning. I plan to stay up all night finishing the experiment on Stanley and if you're still crying in the morning I'll get to work on you."

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to make the tears stop while placing his head down on the table. He did not want Dr. Mephesto to have to do anything else to him. "Fine, thank you. Bye."

"Feel free to help yourself to anything I have while you work. You'll see the fridge is fully stocked." Dr. Mephesto nodded and quickly left, Kevin following.

When he heard the kitchen door shut behind him Kyle slowly picked up his head. He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his eyes before he turned over the paper to see 'Ten True Facts About Stanley Marsh' typed across the top. How can an entire person's personality be captured in just ten facts? Kyle sighed and grabbed a pen, trying to focus his mind. He always did this when he was about to take a test in school, priding himself on getting straight A's most of the time. He shuddered to think Cartman was down the hall with the same paper, probably half assing it if he even bothered to finish the entire thing. Kyle would have to do a spectacular job if Stan was supposed to come out okay in the end.

If Dr. Mephesto didn't screw it up. Kyle had to go along with it and try to trust him, he had no other choice.

Kyle pondered what his first fact should be when his eye went back to the refrigerator, his newly healed face reflecting back on its shiny metal finish. Dr. Mephesto had offered him food and Kyle was hungry. He got up and took a peek inside, the fridge contained a full ham, potato salad, a chocolate cake next to a gallon of milk, fried chicken, spaghetti, many different types of sodas. Kyle considered his choices and took out a loaf of bread and the ham to make himself a sandwich. He never had pork at home due his mother and her Jewish dietary habits that she enforced on the family, so Kyle would eat it whenever he could. Kyle pulled out cheese, lettuce, tomato and mustard, leaving the jar of mayonnaise behind. He'd always hated mayonnaise.

As he made a sandwich for himself on the counter top he noticed a landline phone attached to the wall, cord and all. Who the fuck used landline phones these days? He cut the sandwich in half and took a bite, his small unkosher yet delicious rebellion making him think of his mother again. She must be worried if he hadn't been home in two, almost three days. Knowing her, she was the first one to call the police. Kyle chewed and carefully weighed his options. Dr. Mephesto said he would be done with Stan by the morning but he knew his parents, as well as his friend's parents would be worried sick. He felt compelled to at least call someone and let them know they were okay. It would be a tiny lie to the Marsh family but all should be good by the morning, right? Kyle finished off his sandwich half and carefully lifted the phone off its cradle, the steady dial tone humming in his ear. Normally he'd just call Stan in these situations. Kyle thought for a bit of the only other person he could trust at this point. He slowly punched out a familiar cell phone number on the rotary dial. How old fashioned.

Ike Broflovski sat at his computer, circles under his eyes, large mug of coffee in his hand. He was using special government satellites that had been a breeze to hack into to scan every inch of the town of South Park for his missing brother and his friends. He just had to figure out how to get the satellites to zoom in even closer. His mother had spent the weekend by the phone, half crying, half yelling, while she alerted every branch of law enforcement and the media as well. She had rallied together Ike's father out in the woods in a search party that included Stan's dad and uncle, combing for clues.

Ike's eyes were glued to the computer screen looking for a glimpse of green and orange among the white Colorado landscape, because who else wore those colors other than his Cookie Monster? He squinted his eyes as he scrutinized the computer screen, trying to make a clue appear out of thin air. The area near the burned down makeup factory was a particular point of interest. If only Ike could zoom in closer. As he leaned forward, the mug of coffee in his hands tipped over, spilling all over the legs of his pajamas and the carpet. He cursed at his concentration being broken. His first thought was to change but knowing his mother she'd come down hard on him for ruining the carpet, missing Cookie Monster or not.

Ike padded down to the kitchen to grab something to clean up. His kitchen was full of activity, not only from his mother but from the mothers of his brother's friends as well. Mrs. Broflovski was the center of the activity as usual, ear glued to the phone, barking out orders as different search parties called in with no news so far. Mrs. Cartman had kept herself busy keeping everyone fed. She had made a large meatloaf for dinner with the side dish of possibly the best mashed potatoes Ike had ever eaten thanks to Mrs. Marsh. "They were Stanley's favorite." She had remarked with a sigh during dinner. Later Mrs. Cartman had stepped out "For a smoke" she had said in her singsong voice, returning with a sudden burst of energy the rest of them seemed to have lost after two days. She got to work preparing some of her own son's favorite foods. The smell of cookies, cupcakes and doughnuts baking filled the kitchen. After making the mashed potatoes, Mrs. Marsh seemed to have lost all of her enthusiasm. While the other two mothers were busy with their tasks, she sat staring into her own cup of lukewarm coffee among a table full of missing child posters, maps, handwritten information and plates of baked goods.

Ike walked up to the kitchen table, grabbing a chair and pulling it up towards the counter to reach a roll of paper towels. The sound of the legs of the chair scraping across the linoleum snapped Sharon out of her trance just as Ike started to climb up onto the counter.

"Ike, honey, be careful."

"Mama. Coffee." Ike pointed to his soaked pajamas.

"Oh, you spilled your coffee. Let me help get you cleaned up and put you to bed. Might as well do something useful." She muttered the last bit as she grabbed a dish towel and followed Ike back up the stairs.

She walked next to Ike in silence as she escorted him into his bedroom. Ike pointed out where the coffee was spilled as he went to his dresser to get another pair of pajamas. Sharon got down on her knees to start cleaning up the spilled coffee but looking over at what Ike had been going over on his computer screen, a satellite view of the burned out Glimmer Corp building. She didn't want to think the worst but she had to worry. Ned had given them the last whereabouts of her son and his friends, describing their clothes, holding flashlights with some kind of plan. What were they doing and where were they now? A flurry of tears started up and just as Ike was passing by, she grabbed him in a tight hug. Ike was taken by surprise, happy at first to be pressed against the rather ample chest of Sharon Marsh but this wasn't the time. He tried to push himself away from her but she held him tight, stroking his hair.

"Our boys, they keep running off. Promise your mom you won't do the same, will you?"

"Cookie Monster?" He responded. Sharon loosened her grip a bit, Ike finally able to get away.

"It's just that that last night Stanley was home, he so was angry with us. I'm afraid he's run away again, or worse."

Ike looked Sharon in square in the eye. "Cookie Monster and his friends are on an adventure. They will come back, they always do."

He patted her on the shoulder and continued on his way to the bathroom to change leaving Stan's mom alone.

Sharon felt silly for crying and after she finished cleaning up the spilled coffee, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and got up. She looked over at Ike's desk and started straightening the papers scattered across it. One was a missing child poster with a picture of her son and his friends. Stanley. Her good boy, her handsome boy. He always would run off but of course he would come back. He always did. Both of Sheila's boys were very smart for their ages, as was her own son. She kept this thought in mind as she continued straightening the desk, and went on to fluffing the pillows on Ike's bed as well as turning down the blankets. She was probably overdoing it but God knows both of her kids wouldn't let her mother them in this way, not at the ages they were.

Her thoughts of what a good, sweet boy Ike Broflovski was were shattered by that sweet boy's ringtone. "She was a bottle blonde, she had her sevens on. When I think about it now, just a cougar on the prowl. She was hotter than hell, had me under her spell. Got that ass doin' yoga, didn't care that she's older."

Sharon hesitated to answer Ike's cell phone, again thinking of her own children and their reactions if she would do something like that to them. But right now it was an emergency. Different search parties constantly calling in with any information they had, which had been none so far. She always held onto that small bit of hope that with each call it would be different though.

She answered.

"Ike? It's Kyle."

Sharon sat down on the bed in shock. This was the call she had been waiting for. "Kyle! Where are you boys?"

Kyle was taken aback at who answered the phone. He had planned to call Ike to let him know he was fine and to subtly let his own mother know he would be home soon. He didn't want to talk directly to Stan's mom. Anyone but her, knowing how over protective she was. He didn't want to give away anything in his voice, especially since he had been crying uncontrollably for over an hour. He took a deep breath. "We're…around."

"Are you boys okay? Put Stanley on the phone, I want to talk to him."

In a panic Kyle hung up on her. He stared at the receiver, knowing he had probably just made things a whole lot worse for all of them, especially for his best friend. For a split second he considered calling back Mrs. Marsh. Make up some bullshit excuse why Stan couldn't come to the phone and how they were all fine and going to be home soon. He could kick himself for not being more careful. If he had been patient, the three of them could have all gone home in the morning, Stan perfectly fine if Dr. Mephesto was a good as he said he was.

If.

Kyle stared at the other uneaten half of his sandwich; suddenly it looked unappetizing to him. He shoved it to the side and pulled the ten facts sheet in front of him once again. He better do the work he was supposed to do, rather that unintentionally fuck up his best friend in some other way. The more he thought about it, the more guilt he felt at how horribly the weekend had turned out. He better get this paper absolutely perfect even if now he was probably screwed on time thanks to him accidently calling Stan's mom.

Two hours later, Kyle was looking over his work carefully. He was pretty sure he had jam-packed the single sheet of paper with every aspect of what made his best friend who he was. He obsessively re read what he had written, going over it and crossing out and rewriting portions of it, all the while frantically wiping his eyes, causing the ink from the pen to get all over his face and hands. He didn't even notice Dr. Mephesto re-enter the room, not until the doctor placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump in his seat.

"Still not done with your work?"

"I just need to put the finishing touches on it." Kyle wrote something down, scribbled it out and rewrote it.

Dr. Mephesto shook his head sympathetically at the frantic boy. "I don't mean to rush you but young Eric finished his sheet an hour and a half ago and went to sleep. I suggest you do the same."

"An hour and a half ago? I knew he would do a shitty job." Kyle did a double take on fact #7. Was it their, they're or there? Suddenly he couldn't remember.

The old genetic engineer glanced over Kyle's shoulder at the paper. "It seems you were pretty thorough with your ten facts. You've done enough, Kyle. Try and get some sleep."

"I'm not tired." Kyle picked up the paper and held it close to his face, trying to skim the paper one last time. His sloppy cursive handwriting was swimming before his eyes.

"Yes but if we wait any longer the already narrow window of opportunity we have may not be around much longer. It's now or never."

He tried to protest as Dr. Mephesto carefully slid the paper out of his hands. Kyle stopped himself at the thought of making yet another bad decision on Stan's behalf. He threw down his pen so hard it bounced off the table and landed clear across the other side of the room.

"You'll let me see Stan as soon as you're done, right?"

"Of course, Kyle. Just do me a favor, watch that temper for the rest of your stay here, okay?"

Kyle said no more as he shoved his chair back and headed out to the room, grumbling to himself as he passed Kevin in the doorway.

Dr. Mephesto looked over Kyle's paper and shook his head at his faithful assistant. "It must take a special kind of personality to balance out those two, don't you think Kevin?"

Kevin shrugged as Dr. Mephesto threw Kyle's discarded sandwich in the trash. "Let's go restore order to a group of friends."

Kevin gave a small grunt as both men left for the laboratory.

Back in Terrance Mephesto's room Kyle had collapsed on top of the blankets, not even bothering to take off his shoes, hat or jacket. His head was firmly planted in one of the pillows, his stupid crying side effect making the pillow hot and moist against his face. He had been passed out for over twenty four hours and wasn't the least bit sleepy. His plan was to keep his face pressed into the pillow until he finally stopped crying or until Dr. Mephesto said he could see Stan.

Eventually Kyle's racing thoughts of Stan, the weekend and how much he hated Cartman for all of this gave away to a lucid blankness. It wasn't quite sleeping, more like that mild dozing Kyle would see Clyde Donovan always doing in class. Kyle didn't even want to think about having to show up at school tomorrow, pretending everything was fine. This entire weekend being a big secret between the three of them if Cartman could keep his big mouth shut. He tried to focus on not thinking of anything at all, a surprisingly hard task.

Kyle's trying not to think of things to think about was shattered by a knock at the door. He got out of the bed, hoping it was Dr. Mephesto with good news. Or even better, Stan himself. He was met with Cartman who pushed himself into the room and hurried to the window.

"What the hell, Fatass? I wanted you to leave me alone."

"I'm sorry, Kahl but if you weren't busy being so self centered you'd notice there's something huge going on outside."

"Well then, watch from your own room."

"Yours has a better view of the front yard."

Kyle groaned but joined Cartman at the window, his heart sinking to see Dr. Mepehsto's front yard filled with police cars. Stan's mom had been through, or more likely his own mom. "They found us."

"They sure did, Kahl. Look they're breaking down the door and everything. They must think Dr. Mephesto is some kind of crazed maniac."

"He's not crazy. You think they're going to arrest him?"

"He did keep us imprisoned for two days, did experiments on us and stuff, the sick fuck."

"That you said he could do, asshole. What if he's not done working on Stan? I have to go warn him." Kyle bolted from the room and down the hall.

"Is that all you care about, Kahl?" Cartman shouted after him.

Kyle didn't hear as he ran past the entrance, just as the front door came down and uniformed cops and firefighters filled the hall. Kyle almost made it to the laboratory when he was grabbed by a police officer and picked up, being lead out the front door. "I found one of the missing boys!"

Kyle kicked and thrashed wildly as he fought to get free as the laboratory door went further away and Kyle was carried outside. He punched and tried to bite and scratch the cops arms around him but the cop held restrained him in a bear hug. "He's uncooperative and combative. We'll have to hold him."

Another police officer opened the back door to a waiting police car. Kyle was tossed into the back seat, his head hitting the opposite side window much like what happened to Stan earlier as the door was slammed shut. Kyle regained his composure as he tried the door handle, which was a futile effort since he knew that cop cars didn't open from the inside. He pounded on the window and shouted for Dr. Mephesto and Stan as he watched as more cops, firefighters and paramedics went into the mansion. Genetically spliced and mutated animals were lead out, mixing with the growing crowd on the lawn. Were they releasing them from their cages in the laboratory or something? They sure as hell weren't keeping track of the animals as Kyle observed most of them running out into the forest.

They must have been searching the house.

Kyle waited with baited breath and soon enough he could see Dr. Mephesto lead out of the house in handcuffs into another waiting police car, Kevin sadly looking on. Cartman came out a few minutes later, pointing and laughing when he spotted what they had done with Kyle. Kyle couldn't even muster the energy to flip Cartman off from the back of his cop car. First Mephesto, then Kevin, Cartman, and the animals, just one more living creature had yet to emerge from the mansion. Finally among the chaos Kyle saw a figure in black, head wrapped in bandages, being lead out on a stretcher and loaded into the back of an ambulance. His first real glimpse of Stan in almost two days. Was it the same Stan he always knew? Kyle sniffled and rubbed his eyes out of habit, realizing then he had finally stopped crying.


	7. Geroge Lucas Cuts Kenny In Half

I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Old sayings about death amused Kenny to no end, but that particular one made him laugh the hardest. He couldn't tell anyone exactly why. Not that anyone would believe him anyway. The sleep after a death was never peaceful; it usually left him achy and sore depending on how Kenny had expired. Phantom pain aside he actually felt rested after; better than eight hours of regular sleep, even turning to his father's handgun on himself as an insomnia cure at times. What they didn't know can't hurt them.Another phrase Kenny would laugh at.

One had to have a sense of humor in times like this.

Kenny had awoken Saturday morning with mild chest pain and a slight choking feeling, nothing out of the ordinary. Not until he looked out his window down the street to see the truck he and his friends had 'borrowed' wasn't parked outside as usual. Shit. Still Kenny played it off as normal, trying to keep calm and going through the motions as he had his usual half a pop tart for breakfast. Just waiting for the news to break out and everyone knew what he knew. He had to get to the truck before anyone else discovered it.

The truck had been a mess. Kenny had expected blood. There was plenty of it on the driver's side floor. He was puzzled at blood all over the seats as well, assuming at first his own. A bit of splatter left over from being impaled in the chest. But upon closer examination of hairline cracks on the driver's side window he probably wasn't the only injured one from that night. A prick of fear ran down Kenny's spine at this realization, looking over at the ominous looking mansion where the truck had ended up after the crash. Who did the blood belong to? He had gotten busy, first turning on and trying to drive the damaged truck deep in the forest, realizing bitterly this was the first time he was actually allowed to steer in all the times he and Stan had taken it. The big dent in the gate would be the least of Kenny's worries for now.

It was typical for South Park to be buried under a thick blanket of snow from October until May so Kenny knew no one would find the truck in the woods but he had to make it disappear forever. He climbed into the truck to set the defroster and heater to its highest setting. As Kenny turned on the truck he was met with a blast of shitty pop music left over from Cartman's singing session and quickly pressed a random button on the radio. The first radio station programmed was one for classic 70's rock, the truck was owned by Randy Marsh after all. It was typical bullshit but not any better than the stuff his own dad would listen to around the house minus a few more twangs of country music. Kenny was about to try and switch the radio off when the last song ended and the radio DJ started. "You just heard 'Freebird' By Lynard Skynard, we have another half hour great classic rock coming up soon for you, next we'll leave you with some Blue Oyster Cult, here is 'Don't Fear The Reaper…'" Kenny laughed a bit at what song the radio had just announced. Death phrases had constantly been repeating throughout his mind all day, he turned up the radio hoping to catch maybe a few more amusing quotes. It would be a nice distraction from the blood all over the seats of the truck. Kenny was still unsure if it was his or not. Though he bled quite often and a lot he never had to deal with the aftermath of it before. He looked around for something to cover the seats, opening the glove compartment to see if there was anything interesting in there, a pair of gloves, a map of Colorado, a screwdriver and a pack of cigarettes.

As the song started what Kenny heard was average and trippy as any typical 70's song was. Kenny could appreciate a good bass line and assumed he would appreciate it more if he was intoxicated in some way. Kenny eyed the pack of Randy's cigarettes and grabbed one and pulled out the lighter he always kept out of his pocket. Not until the singing started as Kenny took a drag of the cigarette did he really focus on the song. He took a sharp intake of breath at the opening lyrics, causing him to double over from coughing. He regained his composure just as the chorus started, tossing the cigarette into the woods and drawing in closer to listen carefully to the lyrics; goose bumps rising on his arms on an already cold night. He switched off the radio, pulling out the old map to spread across the seat and carefully pocketing the cigarettes. Anything else in the truck would not be salvageable, at least after Kenny had gotten through with it.

Driving the truck by himself was not an easy task, he had learned his lesson earlier pressing the gas pedal lightly in the heavy snow but he was unsure just how careful he was actually being having to constantly duck down to reach it with his foot. He couldn't afford to get killed again, not at the risk of getting caught. With Kenny's new one person method of steer, duck and tap gas he managed to crawl the truck onto a hill overlooking Stark's Pond. He couldn't see any other way of disposing of it and after making sure there was nothing else of interest left in the truck he rolled down all the windows and let the parking brake go, quickly jumping out as the truck gained momentum. He ran down the hill after the truck, ready to do a cheer over how clever he was in crime scene disposal. His victory dance cut short as he watched the truck slide clear across the thick ice, splintering a recreational bench in its path and coming to a crashing halt against the old oak tree that sat on the other side of the pond.

Fuck.

Kenny ran around to the other side of the pond to get a front view of the increasingly damaged truck. The left headlight was smashed and the entire front bumper was crushed in, steam from the radiator was coming out from under the hood. Kenny cursed under his breath, ready to give up and turn himself in. Stan's dad probably had good insurance on the truck and could probably get it fixed. The problem would be explaining why it disappeared and ended up in that condition in the first place. So much for joy rides with Stan and Kyle. Kenny stood back from the hood, watching the water from the radiator drip down and onto the ice. Kenny dared not open the hood as accident prone as he was. But the hot radiator fluid was doing a good job dissolving the ice. If Kenny could get the truck to leak something more flammable maybe he would be able to make the truck disappear under the ice after all.

With a plan forming in Kenny's mind he opened the driver's side door, taking a look at the truck's gas gauge. Half full, not bad. Or half empty if you were a pessimist. Kenny's outlook on life and his deaths would go back and forth between extremes but right now he would tell himself to think of the gas gauge was half full or else. He crawled over the crumpled map of Colorado to get to the glove compartment, taking out the screw driver and putting the gloves on over his own brown ones. The old worn work gloves were much too big for his hands but gasoline on Kenny's clothes was a recipe for disaster. He reset the parking brake and got back out, going to the side of the truck. He kicked the side tire, making sure the truck wouldn't budge and then cautiously crawled under.

When his father was giving Kenny and his brother mechanic lessons Kevin had made a show of getting a long rubber tube and trying to siphon some of the gas, daring him to take a drink, as if Kenny had never tasted gasoline before. Kenny was ready to accept Kevin's challenge when their father stopped them, telling them all about where the compartment where the gas was located and how to angle the hose so they could siphon properly without poisoning themselves. While Kenny still managed to poison himself in the end but his father's lesson had stuck with him. Under the back tire about two hand lengths away from the edge. Kenny counted off and shoved the screwdriver into the underbelly of the truck and wiggled it around. He quickly scrambled away from it just as gasoline started to leak out, Kenny cursing again as a bit of it splattered on him as it hit the ice.

Kenny stood as far away as possible as the gasoline leaked into a decent sized puddle around the back wheels of the truck. He looked down to see a light splatter of gasoline across the front of his hoodie. The last thing he wanted to do was die when he was doing something important. He weighed his options, finally walking back to the edge of the pond. He peeled off his hoodie and carefully folded it and placed it on the remains of the splintered bench. Kenny stood there, trying to get the full feeling of the below freezing temperature. He took a deep breath trying to take as much of the cold mountain air in his lungs as he could. Taking out another cigarette and his lighter, placing it to his lips and lighting it. He inhaled but quickly coughed it out again, wondering if the whiteness that escaped from his mouth was actual smoke and not his frozen breath. He'd learn how to smoke properly one day. The gasoline had stopped leaking. Kenny kept his distance as he took another drag, this time trying to hold it in and not cough as he tossed the cigarette onto the puddle. He ran back to the edge of the pond.

The small speck of orange quickly grew into a decent fire as Kenny slipped back on his hoodie, feeling a bit satisfied with himself. Years of setting things on fire was turning out into a useful skill after all, now if only Kenny could do the same for his other hobbies of huffing glue and staring at boobs. He hugged his hoodie around himself as he waited for the fire to do its job, not daring to approach the truck until it was out.

The puddle of gasoline had spread out and was lit up around the back end of the truck, the ice on the surface of the pond quickly melted and Kenny felt triumphant as the back tires started to slide into the water. The quickly growing flames licking up the sides of the truck and started to consume the cab, doing a fine job of destroying any evidence he and his friends had been there.

If only all of Kenny's problems could be solved by setting them on fire.

Kenny's jumped at the sound of glass shattering as the windshield caved in; extremely grateful he was a good distance away. He watched with some amusement as the back of the flaming truck slid even more into the water, the fire being extinguished as it fell through the ice making steam rise into the night sky. The truck suddenly plunged through the ice and into the lake, leaving a rather large hole in the otherwise untouched, frozen wasteland.

The fire went out almost instantly as the truck disappeared, and a thick steam rose out of the small pocket of water and suddenly all was black and silent. Kenny looked up to the sky to see the snow had picked up again, that giant hole would definitely be frozen over by morning, he had to keep reassuring himself. No time to over think now, he still had another even larger piece of evidence to get rid of.

After quite a long trek he had reached the Glimmer Corp building. Kenny stood in the clearing where he and Stan had driven the truck in a panic out of there just over twenty four hours ago. The front door was still bolted shut from the inside, now with the added decoration of crime scene police tape. Stan had broken in through the roof but that was out of the picture right now. Kenny weighted his options, not even too sure what he would do to cover his and his friend's tracks.

There was a nearby rustling of something in the otherwise silent and still night. Kenny looked up to see a pair of eyes staring back at him from the branches of a tall pine tree. He squinted through the falling snow to just barely make out two ears and a long tail. Oh a cat, Kenny liked cats. Probably a little bit too much according to some people. The cat's perch had given him an idea. Kenny hoisted himself up onto the lowest branch and climbed up until he was high in the tree, until he was almost eye to eye with it. He noticed the tag around its collar, sterilized numbers with a bar code. No shit it was a Glimmer Corp cat he and his friends had rescued. Kenny tried to reach out for a better look at the tag but the animal finally did react by jumping down off the branch and scampering off into the woods.

By this point he'd climbed high enough up the tree that he could see into the third story offices through the windows.

Kenny took a running leap and feet hit the windowsill and he tried to do his signature Mysterion crouch, instead his foot slipped. He grabbed the outside screen in panic, praying it wouldn't break under his weight. The windowsills of the residential houses he was used to were wide and made of wood, the Glimmer Corp building's windowsills were thinner and made of metal. Kenny's small thin fingers instinctively went through the holes of the screen, keeping him in place. He froze as the screen bent back from the window as he held onto it. He shook the screen to make sure it wouldn't break until he figured out his next plan of action.

He took notice at how several small bolts attached the screen to the framing where the window could slide open and closed, they seemed to go right through the glass of the window. Interesting. Kenny shook the metal screen again, this time putting his fingers between the gap and yanking it harder it to see if he could make some of those bolts come loose. After several strong tugs the screen partially broke off from the middle of the framing and left a decent sized crack in the glass of the window. Kenny continued to smack the screen against the glass to make the cracks bigger until he heard the window completely shatter on the inside. He cautiously put his hand through the opening and undid the screen latch, relying on gravity to let the window fall open.

Kenny had expected the bottom of the window to fall inward towards the office but to his horror it opened in the direction to the outside. The surprise made his foot slip once again making him fall back along with the window with his arm still stuck between the broken window and the metal screen. Kenny's body jerked in the motion as he felt his arm snap as it was held in place by the open window. Wanting to vomit at the shock of pain going through his body, his feet dangled and kicked uselessly over the ledge. He cried out, yelled, cursed but couldn't get himself free. Kenny tried to look up; he could tell by the angle his arm and body was hanging in the window it was definitely broken. While Kenny was no stranger to broken bones or even having limbs cut off, when this happened excruciating pain left him unable to think rationally. For now he'd be useless to carry out whatever he was supposed to accomplish here.

Kenny took in a deep ragged breath and forced himself to stop kicking his legs and just let his body hang by the scary angle his arm was stuck in. With his free hand he shakily grabbed the outside of the screen, fingers going through the holes as Kenny pulled his body up until his feet could reach the ledge. When he felt secure he bit his lip, took secure hold of the frame of the open window and yanked his broken arm out of where it was stuck between the screen and the framing. He shoved the open window all the way down and scrambled through the open window.

He rolled into the office and fell into the floor with a thud. Shutting his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep of breath, he tried to figure out what he should do. Kenny didn't want to move; actually he wanted to just die right here. An easy task to accomplish since his body was basically disposable, but damn he'd never get used to extreme pain. He finally opened one eye to examine the damage, the sleeve of his hoodie soaked in blood and something sharp looking protruding from just below where his elbow was. With his good hand he picked up his broken arm to hold it close to his chest. It didn't help with the pain but it would be easier to move around.

After several minutes Kenny forced himself to sit up and look around at where he was at. His eyes were mostly focused on the floor; black specks were starting to cloud his vision, was that the first sign of shock? Fuck it, Kenny decided he was torching this place. He could only get so far before he passed out from blood loss and didn't have his dad's gun available to put him out of his misery. Also he would technically be destroying evidence. Kill two birds with one stone, what a stupid fucking saying.

The problem now would be where he was in the building. He had to get into the middle to make sure most of the place burned down. With effort he didn't even know he had, Kenny was able to get to his feet and stumble out the door. Just outside the office was a wide railing Kenny quickly went to lean against. Just below he could see the second floor level that housed the machines where they manufactured the makeup. Kenny knew that room since the floor was still covered with the makeup ingredients he and Cartman had spilled for fun. This position from where he was at must be where the bosses looked down at the workers. Just how to get down there. Kenny spied an elevator up the hall. Kenny dragged himself over and hurriedly pressed the down button with his shoulder. The elevator down arrow lit up and the doors opened. Kenny walked in confidently, probably on some new natural high he was experiencing due to severe pain and blood loss.

Kenny stood up straighter while holding his injured arm as the elevator went down and opened up on the bottom floor. Once again Kenny strode onto the manufacturing floor with as much confidence as one could muster with a severely broken arm and a dribbling trail of blood following them. The mix of chemicals spilled onto the floor were sticky on the bottom of his shoes, making it even harder to walk. After reaching the middle of the room Kenny unsteadily sat himself down in the middle of the mess and let his injured arm go, letting it flop uselessly to his side. He pulled the red lighter out of his pocket. His next act would hurt of course, but it would be self sacrifice to help a cause his buddy had started. He had been doing that kind of stuff long before he ever had the idea to become Mysterion. He pulled his glove off his hand with his teeth and placed it as far away from his seated position as he could. He flicked the lighter and held the flame to the glove just until it started to catch. Then he gingerly threw it to the other side of the room, shocked he himself hadn't gone up in flames right there. That could be considered slightly lucky since his clothing was covered in gasoline and his own blood. Kenny laid back down on the floor and watched as the burning glove caught the spilled chemicals on the floor, watching the flames start to grow. He shut his eyes and waited for the reaper to take him, though knowing that lazy asshole probably wasn't going to show up.

Kenny's heavy lids lifted and once again he was staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He took a deep breath and let out a ragged cough, the smoke inhalation must have killed him before his body burned. He stretched in bed and twisted his right wrist around and outstretched his fingers. Dying may hurt but when shit like that happened it was a quick fix rather than several weeks in a cast. Kenny sat up in bed and cleared his throat, opening his dresser table by his bed. He pulled out a battered three subject note book with a black cover. He knew why most guys would keep a little black book but Kenny had hardly gotten that far yet, not from lack of trying either. He flipped the pages to about the midway point and jotted down the date to make a new entry: Broke arm, burned up after setting building on fire.

Kenny took another deep breath and coughed a little, ignoring the fact his mind still seemed to be trapped in a burning building across town. He returned the notebook to its drawer and pulled out a large pack of disposable lighters since he always lost them so easily. He considered his color choices before selecting a navy blue lighter this time for his pocket, until next time he died. His color choices were always deliberate, his stupidly love sick friend on his mind of course, the navy blue matching that hat he always wore. Wasn't his last lighter red? But there was another person who wore navy blue around the playground, this time more enticingly around the collar of her jacket. Kenny was not being a bad friend; he knew all the colors of the collars of the girl's jackets in his class. If anything that's all he knew since Wendy always kept that top button shut so tight.

Kenny's curiosity was getting to him wither the Glimmer Corp building was completely gone now. He cautiously peeked out from his window at Stan's house again; all the lights were off in the house and the family's other red car was gone. Kenny jokingly imagined another one of his friends destroying it somewhere else in town. But who was he kidding? Worry crossed his mind again remembering the bloody front seat of the truck. He could kill himself for a quick injury fix but no one else could. He could try asking his family again or at least see if there was anything on the news. The added bonus of the Marshes not being home was the cable McCormick's stole from their house would be working perfectly right now.

He went into the living room and plopped down on the couch between his father and his sister, both ignored him as both were engrossed in the TV. The picture coming through clear as day right now but it was worth a shot.

"Hear any interesting news lately, dad?"

"You know Sundays are pretty meaningless now that half the NASCAR drivers are dead."

"It's not that."

Kenny's mother passed by, she handed her husband one of the beers in her hand and smacked him in the back of the head. "He's talking about church asshole; he's feeling bad for missing church today."

"It's not that either, just...isn't the news starting soon?"

Kenny's dad jumped up. "What the hell was that for bitch?" He called after her. "Don't you dare change the channel, Kenny. I don't get to watch Pawn Stars with nearly clear picture and you're not fucking that up for me now." Kenny's dad got up and followed Kenny's mom into the kitchen.

Kenny rolled his eyes, he wasn't allowed to change the channel but his dad could disappear any time he wanted to? He put his hands in his pockets, and pulled out his new lighter, flicking it on and trailing it back and forth like he was at a concert. He caught his sister's head going back and forth also following the flame and leaned forward to the coffee table to grab an old candle that was melted and misshapen from he and his siblings playing with the wax. He knew what usually followed his father going to confront his mother and needed to distract Karen. He lit the candle and stared down at the flame waiting for it to get hot enough to swirl the purple wax around. He could hear the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen, his other arm going instinctively around the shoulder of his sister. Her small face nuzzled into his jacket as he put the candle down on the table focused on the lighter in his hand.

"I was just brining you a beer!"

"I'm trying to watch TV, whore!"

"I should have brought you a jobs wanted section instead so you can stop being a dead beat loser!"

If his parents were distracted Kenny could sneak a peek, he got up and switched the TV to HBC. A golf tournament on right now. He tapped his foot impatiently, keeping a watchful eye on the kitchen door. The news wouldn't start until six he assumed. He hated to play into stereotypes but it actually was true his family hardly watched the news. They didn't even buy a newspaper, due to his father's aversion to the help wanted section, so Kenny couldn't see if his small act of arson had been noticed yet. Looking back at the couch he saw Karen had disappeared and the candle was gone, though a bit of the wax had been dripped onto the table. The boring sounds of golf were interrupted by a breaking news warning. Ah here we go; Kenny rubbed his hands in anticipation. His frowned when he saw a picture of Stan, Kyle and Cartman being flashed across the screen. Had they been arrested? No, reported missing, not as bad. Kenny waited on more info but there was nothing other than a number to call with information. His dad would be back before the news started so he quickly switched the TV back to his dad's precious History Channel and went back to his room.

Things had to be bad if there was no sign of his friends for nearly two days, they usually included him if they left town for an adventure. Kenny shut his bedroom door for the dresser hidden under the sheet. His blunder at Glimmer Corp hadn't been newsworthy but maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he had worn the Mysterion costume. A boost of confidence as well as that cover of mystery Kenny needed to get shit done. Right now he was needed again. First he would unplug his family's cable connection to the Marshes house, if only to mess with his dad. More importantly if his friends were missing, Wendy had to know the truth. Good thing Kenny knew where she lived now thanks to Stan.


	8. Bebe, I Need A Makeover

"If you're going to be sad you might as well look good."

That had been Bebe's advice. Bebe almost always gave good advice. Wendy knew she hit rock bottom when her best friend pulled out her giant pink caboodle filled with makeup samples courtesy of Bebe's mom and her part time job selling Glimmer Corp makeup. It felt nice to be comforted and coddled by her best friend. Bebe was sure to grow up being the best makeup artist and psychologist ever. Wendy liked being able to vent to someone she trusted. No matter how bad the stream of expletives and soul bearing, but still quite mean, rhetorical questions came out of her pretty pink mouth. Bebe had enough sense to only let her know she'd gone too far by handing her a tissue to blot her lipstick. What was the reason for this make over? To get a new boyfriend? To keep the current one? Piss him off? Make herself feel better? Bebe simply handed her another tissue and Wendy instinctive pursed her lips again until Bebe informed her that her mascara was running.

Wendy was unsure if that was the right answer, but it was a step in some kind of direction. After coming home from her Saturday night sleep over at Bebe's she sat at her desk. Her posture was stiff, her newly purple painted fingernails drummed nervously as she eyed her white princess phone again. She reached out for it but lost her nerve at the last minute, her hand continuing past it and grabbing the South Park Elementary School yearbook instead.

Every year, just before her birthday Wendy's parents always took her for professional photographs. She had given one to Stan last year, something for his filthy locker, not that he ever hung it up. Over Wendy's desk was a large bulletin board filled with photographs given to her by her female friends. But boys never gave photographs back. Minus Token Black giving her and every other girl a picture of his head shot from his stint as a lounge singer. No, if Wendy wanted to look at a picture of her boyfriend she had the grainy black and white photo in the year book. She flipped open the pages to the Mr. Garrison's Fourth Grade Class to get a good look at Stan. His photo stared back, expressionless and hatless. All their other classmate's photographs surrounding it were smiling, even a few hamming it up. Compared to the rest Stan looked so... bland.

She wanted something more she guessed. Wendy placed her hand over the receiver, not even sure what to say when he answered. Wasn't conversation between two people dating supposed to be natural and enjoyable? Wendy felt tightly wound; she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and loosened up her posture. She'd let this conversation run its course. She could apologize, she could get an apology out of him, she could tell him she loved him, she could dump him, again. It was just between her and Bebe and the pink makeup kit just how many times Stan had come close to hearing any of those extremes.

Before she could think she punched in 555-1019, noting she had his phone number memorized by now.

Sharon Marsh was in the kitchen, grumbling to herself as she hand washed a large stack of dishes from last night. She was also mentally budgeting what would be the cheaper option, a new dishwasher or another divorce when the phone rang. She wiped her soapy hands on her apron and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Wendy tried to remain polite. "Hello Mrs. Marsh, can I talk to Stan please?"

Sharon remained equally polite. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Wendy?"

"Who?"

Wendy bit her lip, was she really that forgettable? "Wendy Testaburger."

"Oh right, Stanley's little girlfriend. I'm sorry Wendy, dear. Stan got grounded last night and isn't allowed to use the phone. You can talk to him at school on Monday."

Wendy grasped for a measly excuse. "Well he left school early on Friday and I wanted to tell him about our weekend homework."

Sharon was about to say no again but thought back to how Shelly got when she couldn't talk to her boyfriends and how angry Stan had been last night. Maybe allowing her son to talk to this girl would restore a bit of peace, until Sharon got to work on that divorce and/or dishwasher. "Five minutes, then you'll have to hang up, okay, sweetie?"

"Okay." How in the hell was Wendy supposed to follow the natural order of conversation in five minutes? She could go with the old standby of we need to talk, but that would only build more tension until Monday. She didn't even know what the hell she wanted to say at this point.

Wendy tried to figure out the right words as she heard Mrs. Marsh walk up the stairs and knock on Stan's door. She held her breath waiting for the phone to be handed to him. Then nothing. Wendy listened carefully, trying to get what was going on. Had Stan's mom put the phone down? Muffled talking turning to shouting and the sound of a door being pounded on. Finally she heard the phone being picked up again. "I'm sorry Wendy we'll call you back. Randy our son's done it again!"

The line went dead and Wendy stared at the phone receiver in her hand a moment before hanging up. Not this again, Wendy didn't have a decent chance to say whatever she was going to say to Stan. No time for conversations or relationships run their natural course when, once again Stan was off doing something crazy. That was another thing grating on her nerves. Wendy almost wanted to write out the new list she was making in her head. If Bebe or her other friends knew she would be in trouble, she was banned from making official lists. But this new one would be a two column list about Stan's pros and cons. The random disappearing would be another item in the con column. It seemed that column was getting longer and longer as she kept putting off talking to him.

Instead Wendy sighed and opened up her Macbook Air. Normally she'd google any major events or catastrophes happening in the general area. But these days she'd have to spread her search to nearby states and even world wide stuff. Stan and his friend's adventures were getting harder to predict.

Wendy was unsure if that reason belonged in the pro or con column.

Hours later not much had changed, Stan's mom of course not returning her call. Wendy was an unimportant figure in Stan's life as always. She spent the time finishing up homework, she tided her room, added a layer of glittery gold top coat to her purple nails and somewhere between chores her list materialized on actual paper. Hidden discreetly on the back of a math test she had tried to help Stan study for. Each time adding to the cons list until it got so long she ran out of space on the page. If she flipped it over she'd see an A she earned. She remembered Stan shrugged off his B- after she had worked with him so hard. Another con?

After dinner Wendy sat down to what she had been waiting for, the ten o'clock news. With five minutes till, she looked through her cosmetics box before selecting a blood red nail polish. She had forgotten to paint her toenails at Bebe's and Wendy wanted to look her best when she next saw Stan, to meet their natural conclusion. Tom Pusslicker came on as Wendy put cotton balls between her toes. She shook the nail polish bottle and looked at the label before unscrewing it. This particular shade of red was called "Irony." Cosmetics always had the stupidest names.

Wendy started on her right foot, seeing as she was left handed. She watched Stan and his friend's faces appeared on the screen in the top headlines. The missing report was a bit unsettling but not out of the ordinary. She didn't notice her frilly lace curtains flutter ever so slightly as a figure appeared on her windowsill.

"Wendy Testaburger."

Her hand jerked in surprise. Now red nail polish was streaked across her entire foot. She grumbled as she turned towards the sound. There in her window was Mysterion, the town's leading super hero. "What the hell do you want?"

"Be not afraid Wendy. I have important information for you."

"Drop the act. I know it's you, Kenny."

"I could be Kenny, but then again I could be someone else you may or may not know."

"Everyone knows who you are, Mysterion. Anyone who watches the news anyway."

Shit, maybe the stereotype about poor people never watching the news was true. Kenny shook his head, having lost his confidence and realizing he didn't look as mysterious and intimidating as he thought. "Well can you at least let me come in, I still wanted to talk to you."

"What are you a vampire now? Having to be invited in? Fine, come in. I'd like to hear what you guys did this time." Wendy rolled her eyes as she put the lid back on her nail polish. She doubted Kenny was after her blood, though the mess on her foot sure did look like a gash.

Kenny's eyes scanned her room, very cute. Never what he would have expected from someone like her. He lept over her bay window trying to remain imposing. His cape followed him in the dramatic way he liked until it side swiped a near by shelf and he heard the sound of glass breaking.

Wendy shrieked as she hurried over to the shelf. Kenny backed off as he always did when she'd do this kind of stuff. He had always tried to keep his distance with her. She was pretty to look at but too much trouble. Kyle and her had a semi professional working relationship. Cartman always treated her like shit, but he treated everyone like that. Not that anyone took him seriously any more. Stan had been the only one to be enchanted by the spark that was Wendy Testaburger but had managed not to be burned, yet.

Kenny leaned in closer to see what he had broken. A porcelain dolphin now missing a nose. Or beak? What was a dolphin's mouth part called? Kenny had no clue but he knew Stan would. As Wendy moved forward to grab her broken figurine Kenny took in a large shelf holding many fragile looking dolphin figurines. He moved closer to peek over her shoulder. "I'm awfully sorry about that. Is there anything I can do?"

Her head shot up at him. "What does Stan want to tell me? It's pretty sad he sends his friends over to talk to me while he's grounded but you wearing the super hero get up is over the top."

Forgetting Stan's mission for a bit Kenny built up an arsenal in his mind of what he did for the town as a super hero. Before he could answer there was a knock on the door as both froze.

"Wendy, sweetie. Is everything okay? I thought I heard something break."

Wendy got up and held her hand against Kenny's mouth. "Get in the closet and don't move. Don't knock anything else over, either."

Instead of arguing he nodded and ran into the closet. She slammed the door on him. He peeked out through a small crack at Wendy greeting her dad at her bedroom door.

"Oh nothing daddy. The wind knocked over one of my dolphins and it broke."

Kenny watched as Wendy's surprisingly ginger looking father took the dolphin from her hands. "It's nothing a little super glue can't fix, honey. Make sure you close your window, you never know what creeps are hanging around at this hour."

"I know daddy, believe me I know."

"Well you have to take a bath now so we can save the hot water for your mother and I tomorrow." Kenny ducked his head back into the closet hoping he wouldn't be noticed.

"Okay daddy. Give me five minutes?"

Funny how her voice could easily go from venomous to sweet so quickly.

Kenny scrambled to the very back of the closet as Wendy opened it again. She grabbed her pink flowered pajamas off a hanger while briefly glanced down at him. She could kick him or scream there's a filthy pervert stealing her panties and her father would be none the wiser.

But she took mercy on him and left the room. A few minutes later the sound of water from the bath tub could be heard. Here he was left alone in Stan's girlfriend's room. Perfect.

He opened the closet door a bit wider to get a better look at the pastel colored fairy land Wendy chose to live in. A shelf that held a dolphin collection, the numerous stuffed animals and bird and butterfly images stuck to the walls were evidence enough. The house didn't smell like they owned a cat and he hadn't heard a dog bark when he climbed into her window. But he could definitely work the animal lover angle to get through to her.

Twenty awkward minutes passed before the bedroom door opened again and Wendy returned now in her PJ's, her hair wet around her shoulders. She carefully locked her bedroom door as she grabbed a comb off her dresser and sat at her desk.

"So what are you doing here and not off with Stan and everyone else?" She said, parting her hair in the middle and starting to drag the comb through it.

She was sharp, Kenny could give her that. He'd try to be as honest as it was believable. "See, I was with everyone else. We were right here in South Park but due to some unforeseen events I got separated from the group."

"Well, then go home, Kenny. I'm sure they'll show up."

"That's the problem. I lost track of the group but haven't heard from anyone."

Wendy rolled her eyes as she yanked a tangle out of her hair. "What did you guys do this time?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, for us anyway."

"Playing super hero?"

"No, this was on my own."

"So why did you come here?"

Kenny shrugged. "Maybe we can wait together? Watch the news?"

Wendy's eyes narrowed but she avoided shouting to make her parents check on her. Instead she pointed to her bay window overloaded with her collection of stuffed animals. "If you insist on staying you can sit there." She hissed as she got into her own bed.

If Kenny was to be outed as Mysterion he might as well keep messing with her. Knock her off that high horse, gently of course. He obediently went over to the bay window and flopped down, grabbing a stuffed cat and placing it over his chest. "Never thought I'd ever get this close to your pussy, Wendy."

Wendy wanted to scream into her pillow at the ridiculousness of the situation. Mysterion was in her room and now sexually harassing her. She never got sucked into this kind of bullshit when Token had been her boyfriend. "If you're going to be disgusting the window's right above you. I'll wait for word from Stan on my own, thank you."

Kenny sat up so the stuffed cat slid off him. "Hey now come on, I'm sorry. I'm just making jokes because I'm worried."

"About what?"

Kenny hesitated, he couldn't spill about the car accident, and had no legitimate way to say what he knew. No one believed him whenever he revealed his secret. He'd take a different route, flatter the poor girl, for Stan of course. "You seem to like cats, rabbits, dolphins and bears so much."

"Yes?" Her hand went to the few stuffed animals she kept on her bed.

Kenny leaned back again with one arm behind his head, using the other to strategically place Wendy's plushie collection around him. "You know the local makeup factory does animal testing, right?"

Wendy shook her head as she held a stuffed dog to her chest. "No. What are you getting at, Kenny?"

"Stan had us all break into Glimmer Corp, set free all the animals and vandalize the place. He got the idea because he wanted to impress you."

Wendy's eyes looked to her desk, a yellow caboodle filled with her own makeup. She was so stupid not to figure out that had been Stan's doing earlier in all the local news articles she looked up. It seemed too obvious. "It burned down didn't it? Why would he think that would impress me?"

"Because you both like animals?" Kenny said weakly as he held up the cat plushie. This wasn't looking good for him or Stan.

Wendy slid out of bed and walked to her desk. Other than the huge incriminating box of makeup there was something else she defiantly didn't want Kenny to see. "Even he was trying to do something like that for me could have been more rational. He may have let go some mistreated animals but left them without food and shelter. He damaged private property, you can't get back that building if it's burnt down. But worst of all left many people jobless, including my best friend's mom!"

Kenny thought for a moment of allowing the general assumption that if Stan took the blame for burning down the building he'd be in the clear. But Kenny couldn't do something like that to his friend and not feel bad about it. "So all that effort was wasted? You're still angry at him?"

Wendy looked at the makeup kit, smacked with the memory of when she started building it up. After the make over Bebe had given her the first time Wendy felt she was losing Stan. But of course she kept collecting the makeup thanks to Bebe's mom. Stan had done more harm than good. If it was because of her she might as well end it between them.

Wendy grabbed her list and threw it into her trash can. She opened the makeup kit and turned it over so the contents spilled on top of the list as well. "I think it's best if you left now."

Kenny got up as some of the stuffed animals fell around him and onto the floor. He gripped the windowsill, preparing to make his exit. He turned around to say one last thing to her. An apology, or something on his behalf to please give Stan another chance, or go the way Cartman usually did and tell her she was being a bitch.

Before he could pick the right option the phone on Wendy's desk rang. She picked up. "Hello?"

Kenny decided to pick his typical option and say nothing, slipping out quietly so he couldn't bother her anymore.

"Oh, Mrs. Marsh, glad you finally called me back. Did you hear from Stan?" Her voice sounded sweet again.

Kenny froze as he was half way out the window. Finally word back from his friends. He watched Wendy nod her head as she heard whatever Stan's mom was saying. Then the phone slipped from her hand, clattering against the desk. Kenny scrambled back through the window. "Hey Wendy, what's wrong? What happened?" He noticed tears streak down her cheeks as he grabbed for the phone.


	9. Stanley, Eat Your Waffles

Kyle didn't want to seem over eager so he was waiting at the bus stop. He woke up two hours before school but was too anxious to stick around his house. He got ready as fast as he could, noticing the sun wasn't even up as he walked out his front door. He felt stupid, or maybe a bit upset, but he didn't feel comfortable going over to Stan's house yet. So he lingered around the bus stop. He stood closest to the sign since that was where Stan usually stood, keeping careful watch over the mountains. The sun started to rise; that meant it was closer to 7am than 6. If he showed up at 6:30- no 6:45 that would seem normal, if things would ever be normal again.

Kyle gritted his teeth and kicked the bus stop sign several times, the sharp metallic clanking shattering the early morning silence. Birds flew out from the forest. Kyle heard something move and stopped; overcome with the feeling someone was watching him. He peered back through the trees but shook it off as his imagination. Well now his foot hurt on top of feeling stupid. Kyle hugged himself and rubbed his hands up and down his arms to keep warm. Dr. Mephesto had told him to watch his temper, now the old genetic engineer was in jail. The lab ransacked. The makeup factory mysteriously burned down. The truck had disappeared into thin air. That whole night would have been a distant memory, just smoldering remains and some unsightly mess but would soon smooth over.

Even Stan himself, well that's why Kyle was up this early. Today would be the first day Stan was well enough to come back to school. Mrs. Marsh was making everyone breakfast before they took off. But Kyle didn't want to impose, which was weird since he was always at Stan's house before this happened. He couldn't tell if things were actually different or it was just in his head.

Stan had been comatose those first few days in the hospital, so all Kyle had during that awful time in the waiting room was Kenny. Butters was there making glittery arts and crafts next to Wendy and her constant crying. If it weren't for Kenny holding him back, he probably would have completely lost it on the other two. Cartman didn't bother to show up. That was probably for the best; Cartman always manipulated horrible situations for his own personal gain. Kyle didn't want to be kicking his ass in the already chaotic waiting room, though that probably would have made him feel better.

After Stan came around and was allowed visitors, Kyle was there every day. Most of the time Wendy would be there as well. When visiting someone in the hospital there wasn't much to do except talk and watch DVDs. On the first day, Kyle showed up with seasons Terrance and Phillip, Wendy had The Powerpuff Girls. Next he showed up with Star Wars and Wendy had Phantom of the Opera. Kyle almost lost his temper again when he showed up with The Wrath of Kahn and Wendy had the Disney version of Peter Pan. This chick didn't know Stan at all.

While being stuck with Wendy and her stupid girly movies, Kyle didn't really watch but kept his eye on his best friend. The DVDs were really just a distraction since Stan wasn't really talking at first. Short sentences, yes. After a while, basic conversations grew and built upon themselves. But as Kyle observed Wendy scoot her way from a chair to the edge of the bed until she was sitting right next to Stan he noticed his best friend wasn't throwing up either.

While watching that idiotic Peter Pan movie, Kyle finally got what he was waiting for.

He had been watching Stan watch the movie when Stan cocked his head thoughtfully to the side. "This is your favorite movie since the girl is named Wendy, right?"

The non-movie Wendy leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, I told you that ages ago."

Kyle sat up straight; this was the first thing Wendy had done that was useful if it was making Stan remember stuff. "Hey, Stan. What's your favorite movie?"

"Um, either Wrath of Kahn or Asses of Fire."

"You want to watch Star Trek instead?"

"No, this is fine." Stan shrugged.

Kyle leaned forward towards Stan's bed. "Do you want me to get Asses of Fire for you? To relive how awesomely fucked up that time in our lives were?" Stan shook his head; the action looked almost painful from Kyle's perspective. He retreated, feeling bad once again for Stan, but not for Wendy. "You should see it, Wendy. Since it's so important to us."

Wendy waved her hand dismissively. "I think we should finish this movie first."

Kyle jumped up from his chair, the first hope he felt in weeks being dashed by anger. "You know what; I'll go get Asses of Fire for you. Right now, excuse me."

He slipped into the hallway, not wanting to show to Stan or Wendy what he was trying to figure out. Actually from an outsider's perspective Kyle couldn't imagine what they thought. The halfassed story he gave was he, Stan and Cartman were camping in the woods when Stan took a nasty fall. He and Cartman went to Dr. Mephesto for help. The "mad" scientist held the boys hostage to do experiments on them. That alibi did seem tangible given how bad of shape Stan had been in and Cartman being suddenly twenty pounds lighter. After Kyle realized Stan wasn't going to die and Cartman would easily gain that weight back with a few months of over eating, his new problem was how to clear the genetic engineer's name. Kyle owed Stan's life to Dr. Mephesto; the least he could do was get him out of jail in a timely manner.

"Hey dude."

Kyle's guilty thoughts were interrupted as the perfect person to test the what happened that night from an outsider's perspective alibi on stepped off the elevator. "Oh hey, Kenny. Glad you came. Stan and Wendy are inside."

"Is that why you're waiting in the hall?"

"I stepped outside to think for a bit. Wendy's stupid movie was driving me crazy." Kyle sighed as he stepped onto the elevator.

"Maybe that was her plan all along. Make you want to leave the room so she could have Stan all to herself." Kenny said leaning casually against the wall next to the elevator.

"What?" Kyle asked, hesitating to press the bottom floor button.

"Should I hold off going in if his hand's up her shirt or something? I don't wanna cock block poor Stan." Kenny tried to keep his voice perfectly even to see if Kyle would catch on to what he was doing.

"I seriously doubt they started doing that in the one minute since I left the room. What the hell is wrong with you, Kenny?"

"Exactly what will be wrong with you in a year or two?" Kenny shook his head, poor Kyle, he was oblivious as ever.

"If I'm gonna be like you in two years what will you be like?" Kyle asked, crossing his arms.

"Hopefully not a virgin anymore." Kenny covered his mouth trying to suppress his laughter as he watched Kyle jab the elevator button over and over. Kenny stuck his hand in the door to not let it shut, a risky move considering the luck he had. "I'm sorry. All joking aside I'm happy Wendy got appreciative of Stan again."

"I appreciated Stan before all this bullshit happened. I'm just leaving to go to the store for him right now." Kyle tried to push Kenny's hand out of the door to the elevator.

"Yeah but you can't get at the store what Wendy can give him right now."

"Damnit, Kenny, is sex all you think about?"

Actually, Kenny was thinking of the look on Wendy's face before she slapped his hand away like Kyle was trying to do now. She had screamed for him to get out of her room before he could figure out what happened. He rushed home in his Mysterion costume and changed clothes but his parents had had no news. He hated being the last to know what happened to his friends due to circumstances out of his control even if he had the clues first.

"If I see Wendy's boobs, I'll be sure to describe them to you, okay, Kyle?" He finally burst out laughing as Kyle rolled his eyes as the elevator door shut.

Kenny was getting better at covering up anxiety by cracking sexual jokes. It was better than crying, anything was better than that. Kenny hated when people cried over him. Though he and Stan were in totally different situations.

He made damn sure to knock before he entered that hospital room.

Now Kyle stood in front of his best friend's house. He was armed with the small bit of hope that things really were back to normal. Stan had slowly been getting back to his old self, Kyle trying to pick up on hints of Stan's personality. His last bit of evidence was Randy bursting into hospital room to turn Asses of Fire to the new episode of Man Vs Wild and Stan yelling at him. Stan always got annoyed with idiotic behavior. That had been the second fact on Kyle's list after the first fact, which described what a great best friend he was. That had been the last day the boys saw each other since Kenny got the brilliant idea to bring in a DVD of his own that had gotten their visiting privileges revoked.

Kyle paced a few times around the street before losing his nerve. He continued past the Marsh house, across the train tracks to the McCormick shack and knocked on Kenny's window.

Luckily, or maybe sadly, Kenny hadn't died since setting the Glimmer Corp building on fire so he hadn't been sleeping very well. He opened his eyes and checked the hand me down digital sport watch he used as an alarm clock before throwing it at the window where the annoying knocking was coming from. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Thursday?"

Kyle smacked the glass on Kenny's window so the pane rattled against the cheap frame. "Come on dude."

"Five more minutes?"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so anxious to see Stan if you didn't think soft core porn was hospital appropriate."

"Fine, you got me there." Kenny sat up and stretched but remained firmly in bed.

"Well?" Kyle asked.

"Don't watch me change clothes. Its kinda gay, dude."

"Fine, I'll be waiting at your front door. Five minutes, okay?"

When he was sure Kyle had left, Kenny tossed his blanket over his head and buried his face into his pillow.

Fifteen minutes later, he was startled awake again by Kyle grabbing the frame of the window and shaking it so hard Kenny assumed he was trying to rip it off. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry."

"I'm not moving until you're ready to go."

Shrugging off any modesty, Kenny threw on a pair of pants and his hoodie before grabbing his back pack and crawling through the window. "Jesus, Kyle, you really can't do anything on your own, can you?"

"It just didn't seem right to pick up Stan for school alone. It would feel more official as a group."

"So then…where's Cartman?"

Kyle said nothing but walked a little bit faster towards Stan's house. Soon both boys stood on the porch, Kenny was closest to the door bell but Kyle's hand was the one to ring it three times in a row.

The door was answered by Bebe Stevens. "The hell?" Kyle let out.

"Is this the right house?" Kenny said, checking the house number just in case.

"Yes, silly boys. Please come in, everyone's in the kitchen." Bebe smiled as she opened the door wider.

Kyle caught sight of Wendy leaving the kitchen carrying a plate of bacon, shoving his way into the house. "Oh no, Wendy, what the hell? This was supposed to be for Stan's friends."

"I have as much of a right to be here as you." She frowned as she set down the plate, catching sight of Kyle trying to look over her shoulder. "Stan isn't in the kitchen. He hasn't come down from his room yet."

"Let's go up there, then. Come on, Kenny." Kyle started up the stairs, expecting Kenny to follow him.

"He'll be down in a moment. Stan's mom worked hard to make breakfast for all of us. Be a little bit appreciative." Wendy said putting her hands on her hips.

Ugh, appreciative. Wrong word for her to use. Kyle didn't answer but stood on the bottom step.

"Long time no see, Bebe." Kenny said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"Hello, Kenny." She said, smoothly stepping out of his reach. "Want to help me get the drinks?"

"Sure."

Kenny eagerly followed Bebe into the kitchen but Kyle didn't move. He noticed there was an extra table in the dining room. Usually the Marsh family would drag that out for special occasions, which this breakfast was. Kyle had gone to plenty of Marsh family get togethers but this was Wendy's first. That was his main problem with her presence today.

Wendy stared down at the plate of bacon in the middle of the table. She started centering the plates so they were symmetrical, lining the glasses on the right, refolding the napkins and setting the silver wear on the left. She felt silly being is obsessed with order on something as useless as place settings. Too domestic for her taste. But Kyle staring up the stairs was making her uncomfortable.

Wendy hardly cried, especially in front of other people, but Stan's friends had gawked at her when she did so at the hospital. She didn't like that part of herself exposed to assholes like them. That was why she brought Bebe along today; she needed a friend on her side. But, almost shamefully, she'd knew Bebe would distract the boys so they'd back off her. She'd ignored her thoughts on Stan before Kenny showed up to her house. She'd play the role of supportive girlfriend. She'd try to make peace with Stan's friends.

"Come on, Kyle. Sit down, eat something." She smiled at him as she placed a piece of bacon on a plate and held it out to him.

Kyle stared down Wendy, daring her to do something wrong so he'd have an actual excuse to yell at her. Instead he took a seat across but grabbed a separate plate and served himself. He didn't want her touching his food.

Wendy sat down and put her hands on her chin. "You know last time we sat down like this we had an egg carton between us."

"And now we have a plate of bacon?"

Oh the wonders of eating pork when you never got it at home. Kyle took a bite and tried to calm down. Frankly he didn't know her well enough to let on she was bothering him. He'd save that pent up aggression for when Cartman showed up.

Wendy smiled and looked down. "No, I mean we're here for a better reason than a school project. I've never seen the inside of Stan's house. It seems silly since I've been to your house and even Cartman's house."

Kyle sighed and shook his head; this wasn't the time to over think or act out. "Look we're here because Stan's important to us both. Let's leave it at that and enjoy ourselves."

Wendy considered her options. Kyle should've been the first to make peace with but he was tough to crack. "I remember you talked to me a lot more in third grade."

"I did that since Stan made me. He was too nervous to hold a conversation with you back then. You should be thanking me, or I should be kicking myself."

Maybe Wendy wasn't a shitty peace maker, Kyle was just an asshole. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kyle caught the rough tone, remembering what she was capable of. He didn't need to start an argument right now. He looked down, trying to be as honest as possible without giving the full truth away. "After something terrible happens and you look back to see what could have been done differently, what you were thinking at the time. My only defense was I was trying to be a good friend."

"You are a good friend to Stan. You spend more time with him, you're obviously more important." Wendy looked down at her now chipped nail polish. It was indirectly her fault that makeup was now in short supply in South Park. She should've taken off the nail polish completely in respect to Stan, or added top coat in respect to Bebe and her now unemployed mom.

Kyle sighed and went for some more bacon. "You may not realize it but we're more equal than you think. Let's just try to be good to each other as we'd be to Stan."

"A truce it is." She shouldn't be surprised at this treatment from Kyle, after hearing the full truth from Kenny. Maybe she should choose a side; Wendy started to pick the polish off her nails.

Stan was in the alcove in the hall, knowing he wouldn't be visible at the top of the stairs yet. He peeked around the corner, watching Kyle and Wendy sitting at the table. The situation was almost too perfect if they were the only ones in the room. Those two meant the most to him. He'd wait for the right moment to come down. Both looked so upset but Stan could fix that.

He took a deep breath and walked out to the top of the stairs not saying anything, waiting for either of them to notice him.

Kyle jumped out of his chair probably a bit too eagerly when Stan appeared. "Hey, dude."

Stan gave a little wave, smiling a little at Kyle's response. "Hey. What were you guys doing? Talking about me?"

Wendy looked up from scraping her nail polish and hid her hands behind her back. "Of course we were. Kyle and I were discussing how important you are to both of us and how happy we are to see you're okay."

"That's nice." Stan said as he headed over to the table. Kenny came back from the kitchen and practically slammed down a carton of orange juice so some of it splattered out onto to the table as he ran up to Stan and gave him a hug.

"Hey buddy, nice to see you!"

Instead of being playful Stan forcefully shoved Kenny away from him knocking him against the table. Bebe was coming out of the kitchen; she froze and held the carton of milk she was carrying to her chest, her mouth open in shock.

"Goddamnit, Kenny, you can't do that kind of shit to Stan. He's still healing." Kyle yelled.

Shit, the rules really were different between Kenny and any of his friends. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Stan's fingers briefly touched the red brim of his hat before sitting down at the head of the table. "Yeah I'm fine, I guess."

"Are you sure?" Wendy said, placing the tips of her fingers on the crook of Stan's elbow.

Bebe regained her composure as she sat next to Wendy. She set down the milk and gave the boys a curious glance. "Are you guys ever, you know, nice to each other?"

So it was okay for Wendy to touch Stan, but she was being very gentle. Kenny sheepishly took a seat next to Kyle. "I was trying to be nice to Stan!"

"Kenny, shut up." Kyle said sharply.

Kenny said nothing as he grabbed for some bacon, watching Bebe roll her eyes, he'd probably proved her right.

Stan's mom entered from the kitchen, the cooking apron Randy usually wore tied around her waist. "I'm making chocolate chip waffles for everyone. How does that sound?"

Everyone around the tables expressed their approval. Kyle noticed the circles under her eyes and realized he probably didn't look any better. Wendy could only admire the strength Sharon possessed for this family, and what she could do as well. Kenny noticed with that apron tied so tightly around Sharon's waist it made her chest look even more enticing and let his imagination run a bit wild since everyone was annoyed with him anyway. Bebe was also looking Sharon up and down, but instead thinking of how she'd change up her wardrobe accentuate her figure, or maybe the baggy sweater was the point and could Bebe take fashion cues from Stan's mom.

Stan had his head down until Sharon put a hand on his shoulder and placed a can of beer in front of him. "Your father wanted you to bring this out to him."

Stan's head snapped up. "You're still going along with what he's doing?"

"Now, Stanley, I already told him I'd cook every meal we have from now on. The least you can do is reconnect with your father."

"Fine." Stan grabbed the beer and got up, both Kyle and Wendy got up as well. Bebe shrugged and followed her best friend. Kenny was still admiring Sharon but scrambled up and followed the group.

Stan looked back, amused to see everyone following him. He had a pull over his friends; he'd never got to use it quite like this before.

The snow had piled up again over night. Stan had been excused from shoveling; he didn't have to do any chores from now on. But leaving it to his dad meant nothing would get done. A snowman stood in the middle of the yard, stones for eyes and useless wooden pipe in its mouth. Stan rolled his eyes, that stupid thing had been built again after he kicked over the last one. The new snowman's stick arms pointed towards a tent towards the back.

The group headed over and Stan opened the front to find Randy sitting in his good snow suit cuddling Sparky. The dog seemed to be trying his best to get away.

"Oh good you guys got my signal. See I told you building the snow man was a good idea, Stan. You didn't want to help me."

"Dad, what are you doing to Sparky? Hasn't there been enough animal cruelty in town?"

"No, no, you don't get it; I have to keep warm with another living creature. Our combined body heat saved us through the night. That and my snowman."

"Or you could have just slept in the house with everyone else." Stan grabbed the dog's collar and pulled him away from Randy.

Sparky gratefully ran out of the tent, bypassing Wendy and Bebe and running up to Kenny and jumping on him so that he almost fell over again.

"Hey, Kenny, can you do me a favor and tie Sparky to his dog house? Maybe give him some water as well? Since no one else probably did it." Stan glared at his father again.

"Um, okay?" Was he Stan's little errand boy now? No, he couldn't bitch; it was the least he could do for his friend. He led the dog by the collar across the yard.

Stan held out the beer. "Mom had me bring you another one of these, since you said alcohol keeps you warm instead of a perfectly good heater inside the house."

"Oh good, I was running low. It's not cold is it?"

Stan shook the beer in his hand. "Yeah, Dad, it was in the fridge."

"How am I supposed to survive in the wilderness with cold beer? I don't have to pee again, but if I drank the cold beer..."

Stan turned to Wendy. "Can you do me a favor and please go in the house? You too, Bebe. If my dad actually does try to drink his pee I don't want you to see it."

"Don't have to tell me twice, come on, Wendy." Bebe walked back to the house.

"I've seen worse things...but if you say so." Wendy wanted to at least attempt to hang with the boys, but some things really were too extreme for her taste. At least Stan cared enough to not let her see that. She put her head down and followed Bebe.

Randy got out of the tent and pulled out a box of useless crap from around the yard. "Now that the women have left I can teach you boys how to survive! First we have to make a filter."

"No that's fucking disgusting. Can you think of me for once and how you're making me look in front of my friends?"

"Of course I think of you, son. I wanted us to have a father/son camping trip sometime soon. How about this weekend?"

"No, Dad."

"It'll be fun. Just our jackets, a simple tent maybe a few weapons but we'd really survive and live off the land. Man and son vs. the wild."

Stan threw the beer at his father and walked back towards the house, Kyle following him. "Ever since my dad got obsessed with Man Vs Wild while I was in the hospital, he refuses to come into the house. We keep bringing him food and beer but he keeps being stupid about it."

"Yeah but that's your dad, I'm used to seeing that. It's probably his way of coping with hard times."

"Yeah I should use that line on him the next time he asks for another jelly jar." Stan rolled his eyes as he flung open the back door.

Kyle stopped walking and grabbed Stan by the sleeve. "Dude, I'm serious. I was worried, we all were."

"I know. I'm glad you care. I'll be fine as long as I have you and Wendy by my side."

"We're both equally invested in doing whatever's best for you. Don't forget that." It would be totally gay for Kyle to hug him, especially if it would hurt Stan. But Kyle couldn't help but put his arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I won't." Stan smiled and patted Kyle's hand.

Kenny watched from across the yard next to the dog house as Kyle and Stan went into the house. It was okay for Wendy and Kyle to touch Stan. It would be nice to have a friend like Stan or Kyle. Kenny shook his head. He was friends with Stan and Kyle but he didn't have anyone care about him like that. He bent down in the snow next to Sparky who was lapping up some fresh water.

"I guess I should get used to others having what I can't have, right boy?"

Sparky responded by licking Kenny on the face. Great now he had dog slobber on his hood. He patted the dog on his head and walked back to the house.


	10. Stan Is Baby

One almost expected to see the school halls lined with balloons and streamers upon Stan’s return. The only thing that was dotting the halls was half conversations and rumors of what Stan did, what his friends did, what that mad scientist did to them, and that Wendy made him do it. People would stop talking when one of the group would appear. Replaced with smiles, some more genuine than others, and well wishes for Stan and Kyle. 

Wendy would get different reactions. Everyone saw the outburst on the playground, and everyone heard the rumors after. Stan almost died for her and was she doing enough? Consequences be dammed for theft and property destruction! The real speculation was making sure Wendy being a good enough girlfriend.

Cartman stood in front of his locker, a group of kids in front of him. “So, after he gave Kyle another ass, I convinced the mad scientist to give me this sweet body as a reward for totally saving Stan’s life. Remember Stan?”

Already this shit, Stan had been back in school for about thirty seconds. “I don’t remember that night, I actually lost a big chunk of my memory from after than on.”

The other kids looked at Stan sympathetically. A few murmurs of that’s ok, you dear sweet boy, does Kyle actually have another ass, and we’re happy you’re back. Stan could at least revel in this attention while Kyle sputtered in protest. 

“I’m just happy to be here with my girlfriend and best friends.” Stan announced, putting his arm around Wendy’s shoulder.

Wendy ignored the awkward stares and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I have to take care of something, I’ll be right back.” This was not the attention she wanted, she looked for a way to escape. 

Just then Mr. Mackey came out of his office. “Welcome back Stan! Just the group I wanted to see, mmkay. Since you’re now in the classified as special needs student for the time being, you get to pick some classmates to be your emotional support buddies. They will be there to guide you to get adjusted back into school and any needs.”

Stan blinked. Special needs? that was over the top, who’s bright idea was that? “Ok I pick Wendy, Kyle, and...Kenny I guess.”

“Mmmkay, I’ll have to give your emotional support buddies some quick training along with special passes to be able to leave class and the school when you’re having a hard time. Wait right here, Stan. There’s only so much room.” Mr. Mackey led Stan’s friends into his cluttered office. Kyle protesting, Wendy embarrassed, Kenny surprised to be included, and Cartman surprised to be excluded. 

Cartman raised his hand. “Mr. Mackey, I should also have an emotional support buddy pass because I saved Stan and all.”

“Nope. No way, fatass.” Stan shook his head a little too fast, making him slightly dizzy. 

“Now Eric it’s Stan’s choice of who he wants for emotional support. I’ll be right back, mmmkay.” Mr. Mackey said as he led Kyle, Wendy, and Kenny into his office and closed the door, leaving Cartman and Stan in the hall. The group Cartman held before started to disperse. 

“As you can see, Stan I’m not fucking fat anymore.” Cartman gestured to his body. “Or is that part of your new fake disability?”

“You’ll always be fat to me.” Stan shrugged. “Anyway, I’m fine, this is embarrassing.”

“But think about the possibilities, we could use this to our advantage.” Cartman grinned, rubbing his hands together. 

Butters bounded up to the boys, nearly tripping trying to pull something out of his backpack. “Hiya Stan, it’s swell to see you’re alive and all! Sorry I wasn’t there.” 

Stan crossed his arms. “You weren’t invited, Butters. We didn’t want you there.” 

“Oh well I’m awfully sorry. I made you a card, get well soon.” Butter grinned handing Stan a green envelope.

Stan took the decorated card, and ripped it open, glitter and confetti falling on his coat and the floor. 

“No money?” Stan shook the card one last time before tossing it over his shoulder. 

“Well I spent all last night making that for you and I thought you would like it.” Butters stammered.

“I was injured, kidnapped, almost killed, and in the hospital and you think some glitter is to make me feel better?” Stan shot back. 

“I’m awfully sorry, Stan. How can I make it up to you?” Butters asked. 

“Money.” Stan held out his hand.

“I- ah, all I have is my lunch money and I need it or I can’t have lunch for the next week and if I lose it my parents will ground me.”

“Like I care, Butters. Money now.” Stan held his hand out even more aggressively. 

Butters hesitated but took out twenty dollars and handed it over. Stan grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket, walking off.

“I’m helping! Great to have you back, Stan.” Butters shouted after him down the hall. 

Stan walked towards his locker, kids looking at him whispering confused but still smiling and giving well wishes. 

Cartman caught up with him. “Oh my god, that was awesome. Can I have one of those ok buddy retard passes too? You must be super special since they don’t give out prizes for being Jimmy or Timmy’s friends.”

“Oh, so now being my friend is worth something to you?” Stan said dryly. 

“What do you mean, we’ve always been super cool. Now that I’m all thin and buff we could own this school. Watch this.” Cartman walked over to Scott Malkinson. “Hey Scott, don’t you want to talk to Stan?”

Scott smiled warmly. “Hey, Stan. It’s great to see you back to normal. I’ve been in and out the hospital many times if you need someone to talk to.”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?” 

“What? I was just saying...”

Stan grabbed the collar of Scott’s shirt and pushed him against the locker. “Don’t ever call me normal, or average, or boring ever again!”

Scott gave a little yelp, dropping everything he was carrying, homework, lunchbox, insulin. “I- I’m sorry, Stan. I was trying to be nice, you’re usually so nice...”

Cartman cackled as he helped hold up Scott. “Yeah Stan has brain trauma and you just insult him like that? You insensitive prick, like you would know what it’s like to be different. That’s it, Scott, give Stan you lunch money.”

Scott squirmed to try and get out of Stan’s grasp. “But guys I don’t carry lunch money. My mom packs me a special lunch to control my diabetes. I’m sorry, Stan.”

“Oh look at me, I’m Scott Malkinson, I have a lisp and diabetes. I have no money and act shitty to people.” Stan taunted back, shoving Scott once more. 

“I’m sorry Stan. I’ll do whatever you want. Want me to carry your books? Give you my lunch? Insulin? Anything please!” Scott pleaded.

“Anything?” Stan let go of Scott’s shirt letting him fall to the floor. “Ok in class today take notes and get my homework and do it for me.”

“Yes sir!” Scott picked up his belongings and ran off. 

“Oh my god this is so awesome. I knew this is why I hated you the least. We can get away with anything. These idiots can’t tell the difference because they love us so much.” Cartman reached up to high-five Stan, but Stan left his hand dropped.

“Why do you think you can do whatever you want? Obviously, I’m the one everyone cares about. Why would I need you for anything?” Stan deadpanned.

“What do you mean, we are the two HEROS of the school. All Kyle’s rumors deal with multiple assses.”

Stan grimaced, but it’s not like Kyle fully didn’t deserve it. “I see you’re trying to capitalize on my fame. I’ll tell them it was your fault.”

Cart Man’s eyes narrowed. “Like you remember anything, Stan.”

“I-“ Stan thought a moment. “Even if you cheated to lose weight, and I got hit on the head, and Kyle might have multiple asses, I’m better than you in every way. Better looking, more athletic, more popular, better friends, better girlfriend.” 

Cartman flipped off Stan. “Well you know what, fuck you, Stan. You’ll regret that asshole. You son of a bitch, you’ll regret trying to steal my thunder.”

“Oh my god Cartman you’re picking on Stan? He just got back to school!” Kyle yelled shoving at Cartman. 

Kenny rolled his eyes to the scene he came back to. He went to stand next to his secondary friend Craig. He leaned against the locker fiddling with his new get out of class free pass. It was pretty sweet, even if he knew he got his as an afterthought. He was no one’s number one choice in that group.

The boys watched as another argument broke out between Kyle and Cartman. Craig had been silently watching the entire thing. “Dude was Stan always such a dick and no one noticed? He’s running around beating up kids, taking their lunch money and insulin.”

Kenny shrugged, putting his buddy pass in his hoodie. “I mean yeah he’s a dick but also...he’s not right in the head? Not just brain damaged, something is really off with him and I’m thinking everyone’s overlooking that.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Yeah I thought so. Just know if he tries that shit with me, I’ll kick his ass. Brain damage or not.” 

Wendy stared in horror at Kyle and Cartman’s argument while Stan laughed. “Stan do something!” Wendy shrieked. 

“Fine, fine. Scott, break them up.” Stan said pointing. 

“Me what do you want me to do?” Scott stammered.

“You’re in their weight class, I’m sure you can figure out something.” Stan waved his hand dismissively.

Scott started going up to the fighting boys but was knocked back by a well-timed elbow from Kyle.

“Owwww! I bit my tongue!” Scott cried.

“I didn’t mean that!” Wendy yelled at Stan. She got down and helped Scott up.

Kenny hesitated to get in the middle of the fighting when his friends had been such shit heads that morning. Luckily the school bell rang, the fight breaking up by kids shuffling into their classroom. 

The kids took their seats as Mr. Garrison stood at the front of classroom. “Before our lesson today, Mr Mackey is making me talk to the class about trauma. Which I guess means running away from home and getting kidnapped by a pedophilic mad scientist.” 

Kyle slammed the top of his desk. “He was not a pedophile, he saved us from that snowstorm.”

“I don’t know, Kyle I knew it had to do with asses or something.” Mr. Garrison drawled.

“Ugh, goddamit! I do not have any extra asses!” Kyle groaned. 

Cartman raised his hand. “I’m suffering emotional trauma from Kyle’s multiple asses, I think I can’t do anything today. I think I need an ok buddy retard pass to leave school.” 

“No Eric, sit down.” Mr. Garrison said. 

Take advantage. If Cartman couldn’t get away with it, maybe Stan could. He raised his hand. “I think me and my emotional support buddies need to leave school. I’m not feeling so good and Kyle needs help with his extra asses.” 

Mr. Garrison sighed. “Sure, Stanley. Whatever you want.”

Cartman made squeaky protest noises while Kenny jumped up happily, Kyle carefully got up still grumbling under his breath. Wendy hesitated but looked over at her classmates looking at her expectantly. “We’ll get our homework to take home, right Stan?”

Stan nodded. “Of course, I already talked to Scott Malkinson about it. Four copies of homework by tomorrow, right?”

Scott grimaced, already nursing a black eye and bit tongue but nodded back as Stan and his friends got up and left the classroom. 

Stan stretched as he walked out of the school building. “I could use some pizza.” 

“Stan it’s nine in the morning-“ Wendy started to say. 

Stan ignored her, grabbed her hand and took off running, his other friends following behind. 

Whistling Willy’s was empty expect for a few bored employees behind the counter and Whistling Willy himself greeting customers. They ordered pizza and Wendy sat across from Stan watching him eat. They had each taken one piece, but Stan was on his third. 

He looked fine. He was fine. Looked the same as ever. When she looked at Stan, she could see how cute he was, even with pizza grease on his face. But she couldn’t help but think of all the dumb things he’d done in the past and what an ass he was acting like now. 

Even if she never talked to him again, even if he pissed her off, even if they broke up, she never wanted anything bad to happen to him. She didn’t want this. None of them wanted it. Kenny was looking down, picking at his pizza. Even with perks involved the price seemed too high. 

Kyle tried to make conversation. “So, Stan do you want to play some video games, ski ball, or anything else?” 

Stan paused and took a sip of his soda. “I don’t know, Kyle I just want to spend time with Wendy. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you.”

Kyles eyes narrowed but he said nothing, Kenny was the one who raised his eyebrows at the exchange. 

Wendy smile tightened on her lips. “Let’s do what you want, Stan.” 

“Oooh whatever I want, I have an idea. Something romantic.” Stan said with a devilish grin. He wiped his mouth and grabbed Wendy’s hand again, leading her through the indoor playground, past the swings and slides, crawling through a tunnel of the playhouse towards the top.

Wendy followed annoyed she was the one dragged everywhere, until they were high above looking down at the restaurant. Normally the view would show kids playing, but since it was a slow weekday mid-morning, they can only see Kyle and Kenny still sitting at the table in shock. Wendy and Stan were secluded behind a barrier of thick plastic and colorful climbing rope.

Wendy leaned back against the wall. Stan put his arm around her, and Wendy didn’t have time to react as his lips pressed against hers. 

She tried to relax and lean in. The kiss was soft, it was tender. But something was off about it.

Wendy opened her eyes and looked back at Stan, he smiled at her expectantly. His eyes reflecting an uncanny blue. 

“Well, how was that?” Stan asked. 

“That was fine.” Wendy muttered. It was Stan’s typical cute smile, but something about the way he was looking at her gave her the creeps. She was sure any nice kiss between them would be ruined by guilt, but it was her anger that was crashing the party.

“That’s it?”

Wendy shrugged. “So so, average I guess.”

Stan frowned. “Don’t say that, this was all for you.”

“Excuse me?” Wendy scooted away from Stan. 

“All this”, Stan gestured to Whistling Willy’s and all this Stan gestured to himself. “I went through hell for you.”

“I know, Kenny told me, Bebe told me, and the whole school has told me. You severely injured yourself while trying to burn down a building for me. How romantic.” Disgusted, Wendy got up and looked for an exit.

“You should be grateful.” Stan growled at her.

“I’m grateful you and your friends are ok, I’m grateful you’re alive, but I’m not sure what else you think I should be grateful for.” Wendy spotted a slide and went down it, she found herself in a ball pit. 

“I can’t believe they still have one of these things.” Wendy muttered. She stood up, pushing the colorful balls around her trying to get the exit. “I thought they got rid of ball pits because kids kept throwing up in them.”

Stan has landed on his stomach, getting up in a hurry to try and follow her. “See I got fixed somehow, I don’t know why but I no longer puke around you! That has to count for something. Don’t get mad, kiss me again.” 

Stan tried to lean in again, but Wendy shoved him away. “No! I don’t know what’s happened to you but you’re different. You’re selfish, you’re mean, you’re entitled. You might have others fooled, but you’re not the Stan I know.” 

“What? I’m better than I was before. I can’t believe this, is there somebody else? You’ve already been with Token and Cartman before my eyes.” Stan tried to hug Wendy again, but he fell back as she pushed forward. 

“No! That’s not it at all. If I wanted to keep kissing someone who was acting like Cartman I wouldn’t be breaking up with you right now!” The words escaped Wendy’s mouth before she had time to think. But it was out in the open. The enviable breakup had finally risen to the surface. 

Stan’s anger faltered for a moment. “What, Wendy please, I’ll do anything. I’ll change however you want me to. I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

Wendy sighed, gently pulling forward through the ball pit. “I would never want you to do that, Stan. No one deserves to be treated like a prop or an object. But that’s how you have been treating me. We can’t even be friends, let alone partners if you can’t even look past yourself to see me as a person.

“I’ll do anything, don’t go Wendy. I’ll do anything.” Stan crawled after Wendy practically swimming in the ball pit, but she had reached the exit. 

She had one foot and arm out of the exit, she stopped climbing out to look back at him. “Sorry Stan, I can’t be with you anymore. I- I wish you well. Please be careful and take care of yourself.” Wendy took off her emotional support buddy pass and left it at the exit to the ball pit. 

“Fuck you then, Wendy. I can do what I want. I can get any girl I want; I don’t need you bitch!” Stan screamed after her before he slunk into the ball pile, allowing himself to get buried. He would never give her the satisfaction of getting the last word.

A moment later Kyle popped through the exit to find Stan “You ok dude? I heard screaming and saw Wendy leave in a hurry.” 

Stan didn’t move. “Everything was for nothing. Wendy just dumped me again.” He said more to the bottom of the ball pit than to Kyle himself. 

“Well I’m sorry about that but it was not all for nothing. We saved a bunch of animals, right?” Kyle offered as he climbed in. 

“Oh fuck you, Kyle. This was all supposed to be for Wendy. Who cares about those animals, let them rot for all I care. What happened to me looking like a brave hero?” Stan jumped up clumsily. 

“Jesus, dude are you ok? I know you’re angry, but I’ve never heard you say something like that.” Kyle went to put a hand on Stan’s shoulder to try and steady his friend, but Stan violently shook him off, pushing him into the ball pile. 

“No don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t go near me, I don’t need any sympathy from you, Kyle. I know all you do is thrive on sympathy, it’s how Jews control everything! “

Kyle stepped back at the Jew comment. He took a deep breath; Stan was acting like this because he was still hurt. “Stan, calm down you don’t mean that. You’re just upset. Come on, we’ll take you home.”

“Leave me alone you fucking Jew pussy. Screw you guys, I’m going home.” Stan shoved Kyle once more, finally climbing out of the ball pit and leaving the restaurant.

Kenny poked his head into the ball pit. “What was that?”

Kyle picked himself up and brushed off his coat. “That was Stan, being pissed off. Wendy dumped him again.”

Kenny held out his hand to help Kyle get out. “I heard the Jew remark. Kyle why are you letting him get away with that? You never let anyone treat you like that. Something is seriously wrong with Stan.”

“I know he’s hurt and recovering and I should-“ Kyle started to explain. 

Kenny shook Kyle. “Kyle are you really so blind? He doesn’t even want to be around you. That was not Stan, I’m not sure what that was. What exactly happened that night? No bump on the head could have caused that.”

“I gotta go.” Kyle couldn’t look at Kenny as he rushed out the door. Being left alone, Kenny thought for a moment of what to do next when one of the Whistling Willy’s employees came up to him. 

“Hello, sir. You forgot to pay your bill.”

Kenny overturned his empty pockets. “Oh shit.”

Kyle ran out of the restaurant, thinking where Stan would go. Maybe it was true, Stan didn’t want Kyle around him. 

Kyle thought he did everything right. He made sure Maphesto had all the information from him to save Stan’s life, memory, and personality. But something hadn’t gone right. Did Cartman write in Stan hated Jews and animals? Or did Cartman self centeredly write about himself that Maphesto took that info for Stan’s personality?

Kyle walked back to school; recess time was starting soon. As soon as that bell rang, he would grab Cartman and get the truth out of him. 

Kyle stood at the edge between the forest and playground. He heard rustle of trees and saw something familiar scamper away out of the corner of his eye. It was one of little bunnies Stan had been trying to save from Glimmer Corp. Kyle chased after it but the scared little thing hopped away. 

Kyle pulled out some gram crackers from his lunch. Ticking his tongue softly he managed to corner the bunny in the alley behind the school and scoop it up in his backpack. The bunny shuddered at first but relaxed as it ate a handful of crushed up gram crackers out of Kyle’s hand. 

The last time they had this bunny was when Stan has been normal. It still had sores on its face and body, and the rabbit looked awfully thin. They hadn’t taken care of these animals at all. Maybe a trip to the vet would jar Stan out of whatever was wrong with him. 

A tree shook behind him, snow falling off the branches to the ground. Kyle froze, he felt like he was being watched. He looked past the branches to the top of the trees. A glint of eyes shone back, something very familiar about them. 

“Stan?” Kyle called out.

Maybe Stan was angry and went for a walk in the woods. Had he climbed a tree in his pissed off state?

Whoever it was it stepped back into the clearing. Too quick to be someone in the tree, but too tall to be Randy, defiantly too tall to be Stan. Kyle held Stan’s bunny under his jacket as he followed into the woods. 

“Stan? Hey, come out, it’s me Kyle. I’m not mad. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

A tree rustled as a beast came out from behind it. The creature had ears and snout of a pig, bear body covered in black fur, and five assess out on display. A sweep of black bangs curled slightly across its forehead and blue eyes. Very familiar blue eyes.

“Stanbearpig? What the fuck?” Kyle said in disbelief as he watched the creature take off running into the woods.


	11. Bad Moon Rising

Kyle had tried to run after the Stanbearpig, but it had been too fast. Despite it being daytime, the creature had camouflaged easily in the dark South Park woods. Kyle stopped to catch his breath, the bunny still in his backpack. Almost wanting to see whatever Stan was now, Kyle headed over to his best friend's house and knocked on the front door.

Stan sat on the couch in his living room, playing his PlayStation. He had a plate of chicken and potatoes in front of him, already polished off. A box of cookies and a bag of cheesy poofs sat next to him.

Sparky came up and started to lick at Stan's abandoned plate. "No, Sparky that's my chicken. Nooo, Sparky!"

The doorbell rang. Stan ignored it; it wasn't his problem. The bell rang again and there was a knocking on the window. Stan sighed, adjusting his pants slightly as he got up. They seemed to be getting tighter around the belt lately.

He opened the door to Kyle holding the bunny.

"What do you want?" He asked over a mouthful of cheesy poofs.

"Hey Stan, look who I found." Kyle held the bunny up, it's little nose twitching.

"Dinner for my dad?" Stan rolled his eyes, remembering his dad trying to shower with the garden hose this morning before he left for work.

"No, it's one of the bunnies we rescued, remember? I was thinking we could take it to the vet together and maybe it can stay at your house half the time and my house half the time- "Kyle said, anxiety causing the words do spill out.

"I don't really want to." Stan interrupted.

"Well if you want, I'm sure there's more animals out there we can take care of together. Also, I saw the weirdest thing-" Kyle continued.

Stan rolled his eyes as he grabbed another handful of cheesy poofs and continued to talk with his mouth full. "I don't care. Wendy dumped me so I never want to see any of these stupid animals ever again. Give them to my uncle to shoot. Goddamn Jew tree hugger." Stan slammed the door in his face.

"You heartless son of a bitch." Kyle muttered. "Fine, I'll take care of him myself!" Kyle yelled thought the door, he put the bunny under his coat to keep it warm as he headed home.

Sheila Broflovski was vacuuming the living room, she didn't hear the front door open. She turned surprised to see her older son standing in the living room, something under his coat. "Kyle , bubble what are you doing? Shouldn't you be in school?" She asked.

"Yeah mom but I'm of one Stan's emotional support buddies, he wasn't feeling good so I had to help take him home. I have a pass from school to be able to leave if he needs help." Kyle handed the pass over to his mom.

Sheila looked over the pass, slightly bristling with pride at her son. "That's very nice you're helping your friend, Kyle. But what do you have in your coat?"

Kyle sheepishly produced the bunny to show his mom. "It's injured. I was going to take it to the vet. Stan wanted me too."

"You know I don't like animals in the house..." Sheila trailed off. "Well I guess if it's for Stan." Sheila looked over at Kyle's pass one more time before handing it back to her son. "I can take care of the vet trip for you as long as you keep up with your homework."

"It could also use a good home." Kyle said, holding the bunny and petting it on the head.

Sheila softened, weighing if her house being a little less pristine was worth the first genuine smile she had seen from her son in ages. Of course it was. "Well, I'll discuss it with your father. No promises. Please go upstairs and get your homework done."

Kyle went up to his room, grateful for some privacy. He put the rabbit in a cardboard box with one of his soft old tshirts. He set up water for it and with permission from his mom, a few baby carrots from the fridge.

Kyle didn't have any homework since Scott said he would collect it for all of them. He went to his window and stared out, looking over the treetops of the forest. If Stanbearpig showed up now he'd have a good view of it, whatever it was. The mark of multiple asses the creature had pointed to exactly who was responsible.

Kyle sighed and flopped down on his bed. He just really missed Stan. No one got him like Stan did. He didn't feel as comfortable shooting the shit or talking serious stuff with anyone else. The limbo Stan seemed to be trapped in was worse than if they just simply stopped being friends, but not as bad as if he had died. The decision had been hard to make, and it ended up being the wrong one. This was Kyle's fault.

Kyle sat up, fingers going over the surgery scar on his stomach. If Stan didn't give up on him, he couldn't give up either.

Kyle told his mom he was done with his homework and was going for a walk. Instead he crossed the train tracks over to Kenny's house.

Kenny answered the door, fingers still pruny from washing dishes at Whistling Willy's. "Yes?"

"Dude I need help; I need to know something for sure." Kyle asked.

Kenny sighed. "Funny I could say the same to you. But I don't feel like helping."

Kyle was taken aback; did everyone hate him now? "Kenny, not you too?"

Kenny's eyes narrowed. "You assholes left me with the bill at Whistling Willy's! I spent all morning washing dishes and bussing tables for them."

"Kenny, I'm sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you, I just need a friend right now."

"Come in, we need to talk. You want a pop tart? If so you're washing your own dish."

The McCormick's didn't keep up with their housekeeping at all. Kyle offered and Kenny accepted since he didn't want to either. Kyle got to work on the dishes and cleaning the counters, throwing away old beer cans and snack wrappers. Kenny sat at his kitchen table eating a pop tart, looking at one of his magazines, and listening to Kyle's side of the story.

Kenny sat back in shock after hearing Kyle's truth. "Kyle, you shouldn't have been messing with that stuff. There's worse things than death."

"You wouldn't know how it is. Stan got me a kidney. I'd do anything for him." Kyle grabbed a plate and glass to throw into the sink that he was filling with soapy water.

Kenny sat back, seriously contemplating smacking Kyle across the face. Was he meant to be the mess cleaner the whole time in this adventure? No, Kyle felt bad or he wouldn't have offered to clean the McCormick's kitchen. Kenny took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "Yeah well, I left early, because I didn't feel well. But I knew your plan, who do you think burned down the building, and got rid of the truck?"

"Kenny, you didn't." Kyle said, scrubbing over the sink.

"Someone had to cover your asses. Sorry I couldn't get you a kidney or a...botched brain transplant. But I kept you out of juvy." Kenny's voice got more gravely, his Mysterion voice came out when he was angry.

Kyle looked down; his hands shook under the dish mitts. "Kenny you're a true friend. I'm sorry I've been such an asshole."

Kenny flipped the page on his playboy nonchalantly. "I don't know why I do it. You've all been a bunch of assholes lately."

"I don't know what to do anymore." Kyle missed Stan like hell. But he had someone else in his corner.

"I don't either." Kenny sighed, looking over at Kyle's downed expression. "But I'll try anything to figure out what to do about the Stan problem."

Kyle sat down across from Kenny. "You're lucky you weren't there that night."

"Yep I'm the lucky one in this case." Kenny said as he finished off his pop tart.

Kyle and Kenny decided to talk to Dr Mephesto directly. They were on their way to the police station, when they passed the grocery store.

"Hey isn't that Stan's mom?" Kenny said. He'd recognize that rocking bod anywhere.

Sharon Marsh had exited the grocery store, large cart of groceries in front of her as she juggled her purse and keys.

Kyle and Kenny crossed the street to help her out. "Hi Mrs. Marsh." Kenny said with a smile, "You look as beautiful as ever."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Need help with your groceries?"

"Thank you, boys, I was going to make another special meal for Stanley. You're all invited this evening, of course." Sharon offered.

"You're sure Stan wants us there?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah of course why wouldn't he?" Sharon said, Kyle noticed she looked tired and stressed out. But he probably looked the same.

"You haven't noticed he's changed?" Kenny said before Kyle elbowed him in the ribs.

Sharon sighed. "He's...sensitive due to his injury. We just need to keep that in mind as we keep supporting him."

"Oh yeah, we'll be there tonight." Kyle said quickly.

"I'll be looking forward to your lovey...cooking Mrs. Marsh." Kenny said as he waved as Sharon drove off.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless, dude."

Kenny shrugged. "It's probably for the best, we need to keep an eye on Stan anyway. Seeing his hot mom is just a perk."

The South Park police station was bustling with activity when the boys arrived. Kyle wasn't sure if they would let him see Mephesto alone, due to being one of his 'victims.' He had Kenny to use his name and information to be able to visit the old doctor.

Kyle and Kenny sat down across from the old doctor, a barrier of bullet proof glass between them. Kenny gingerly picked up the phone, the crazy old dude gave him the creeps. It was for the best Kenny had missed that part of the adventure. What if the crazy old doctor discovered his secret?

The old man dressed in an orange jumpsuit came and sat across from  
them. He leaned on his cane. "I'm surprised anyone's come to see me. I have the best lawyer my meager salary can buy...so it's my assistant, Kevin."

"Yeah sorry about that." Kyle said. "Maybe I can talk to my dad if you have information for us. He's one of South Park's best lawyers."

Dr. Mephesto nodded his head. "Go on."

"So our friend Stan. You said you could fix him and keep his personality intact. He's turned into a complete asshole." Said Kyle, drumming his fingertips on the metal tables.

"Yeah an even bigger asshole than he was before!" Kenny added.

"He's acting racist, selfish, heartless." Kyle continued.

"He's getting fat." Kenny piped up.

Kyle glared at Kenny, but he knew he was right. "What did Eric Cartman put down on that list?" Kyle asked.

The old doctor sat in thought for a moment. "Eric Cartman didn't want to do the list, said he needed something in return to do homework for free. We negotiated to make him more aesthetically pleasing. I think I got the better end of the deal."

"Yeah he's running around trying to say he's hot and gloating, we have two monsters running around town." Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Well, we might have three..." Kyle said before getting back to the subject at hand. "What happened that night, what exactly did you do to Stan?"

"Parts of his brain were so damaged I had to get a supplement it with donor material." Mephesto explained. "Where do you think the extra material came from? I had to do a liposuction on Eric Cartman to use to rebuild brain matter."

"No...you gotta be shitting me." Kyle whispered under his breath.

"So, when Cartman keeps going on that he saved Stan..." Kenny trailed off.

Mephesto continued "I had my machines to program Stan's personality but maybe there wasn't enough data for it to fully take. Maybe if I stored more personality by giving Stanley more asses..."

Kyle shook his head, feeling like an idiot to have trusted this guy. "Another question, I was walking near the school and I saw a creature, it looked like Stan but like a monster."

"No Stan is just turning into a monster, he's not actually a monster." Kenny said, looking over at Kyle.

"No this was a different monster, but it reminded me of Stan. It was this big bear pig thing that was running around the forest." Kyle said.

"Ah yes, the leftovers." Said Mephesto. "It would have been a shame to just throw them away. A pig you had brought in passed away. I spliced it with a five assed bear cub that had just been born, I added the damaged brain of Stanley to a previous version of a clone I had of him. The results were the five assed Bearly Stanley Piggy."

"I saw Stanbearpig roaming around the woods near the school." Kyle said.

"I'm sure it's trying to figure out where to go. It's the most basic, primal version of Stan, but improved with more asses." Mephesto.

"I tried to call it to me, it tried for a moment but got spooked and ran off." Kyle said.

"Maybe it didn't want you in the moment?" Kenny suggested.

"I had food for- ah the Stanbearpig and was trying to lure it over to me." Kyle said.

"I wouldn't suggest that. The creature is easily agitated and could be highly dangerous. Maybe it wasn't hungry. I mean if your basic needs are taken care of, food, shelter, sleep it was looking for...you know." Mephesto said.

"Schoolwork?" Kyle said.

"Pussy?" Kenny said.

"Exactly. It was looking for its mate." Mephesto said.

Of course, the damn thing was looking for Wendy. Who has Stan been bitching about this whole time?

"So it's looking for Stan's ex-girlfriend, Wendy." Kyle sat back, noticing a cop was coming over to get Mephesto.

"If that's what it's after, she could be in grave danger." Mephesto said, getting up from his seat.

Kenny turned to Kyle. "If that thing is out looking for Wendy, we have to warn her."

Kyle's breath caught in his throat, remembering what a Manbearpig was capable of.

Kenny wanted to dress as Mysterion to go warn Wendy, but Kyle insisted that was the dumb. Thanks to Stan had showing them where Wendy lived, the two boys found themselves on the Testaburger's doorstep in midday.

"Yeah her bedroom is cute. She has all these ceramic animals." Kenny was explaining.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that, Kenny?"

"Uhh you know boobs, tits whatever." Kenny waved off, not feeling like dealing with Kyle acting like he was crazy again. "I'm friends with every girl in class on Instagram."

"But you don't have a phone." Kyle knocked on the door. "No one home."

"You don't have her number?" Asked Kenny.

"No do you?" Kyle asked back.

Kenny sighed. "Give me your phone dude."  
Kenny added Wendy on Instagram thought Kyle's account. He sent her a message request.

Wendy had just gone back to school, ignoring her classmate's stares. She had said she couldn't be an emotional support buddy; it would interfere with her schoolwork. Cartman had jumped at the chance to have her pass, but she handed it off to Butters with Mr. Mackey's permission.

Now Wendy was hanging out with Bebe. She checked her phone.

"Kyle's trying to send me a message and friend request." Wendy said.

"Probably on Stan's behalf." Bebe said, patting her friend on the shoulder. "You do whatever feels the best."

Wendy rolled her eyes and ignored the chat requests. She also unfriended Stan and Kenny on her profile.

She was so busy on her phone; she didn't notice something watching them from the forest.

The two boys sat on the Testaburger's doorstep looking at Kyle's phone for half an hour already.

"Well now what?" Kyle asked.

"I don't know but we look suspicious just hanging out here." Kenny said as he stood up. "If this is an emergency and we can't find her before Stanbearpig does, desperate times calls for desperate measures." Kenny looked around to make sure the street was empty before sliding his hand around the window. He found a latch, opened the window and started to climb in.

"Kenny, what the fuck? Like that's not suspicious." Kyle yelled.

"Don't get hypocritical with me Kyle. Besides it's not like we'll stealing anything. And I promise I will not burn down Wendy's house." Kenny looked around one more time before hopping into the window.

Kyle rolled his eyes but went through the window after Kenny, promising to stop being a follower after this.

The boys made their way easily up to Wendy's room. Kyle surprised, but didn't bother to ask how Kenny knew exactly which room was Wendy's.

Kyle sat down at Wendy's desk, pulling out a pad of paper and grabbing a pen. "Now we want her to be warned so she stays safe, but don't want her to tell the cops or something and they end up killing Stanbearpig."

A moment later he showed Kenny the note her wrote her.

_Wendy, stay out of the forest. It's dangerous and there is something after you. Please listen for your own wellbeing._

"Serial killer much?" Kenny said looking over Kyle's shoulder.

"What do you want me to put?" Kyle snapped.

Kenny thought for a moment, grabbed a green marker and added _'we're here to protect you'_ and a drawing of a question mark at the end of the note. He added a little kite sketch in the margin to appease Kyle's protests.

"You think she will believe that? She might think it's Stan or even Cartman harassing her." Kyle said, folding the note up, looking for a good place to leave it.

Kenny knocked over a dolphin figurine on her dresser, placing the note under it. "I wouldn't worry about that. She'll catch on."

Stan hadn't moved from the couch all day. He had given a grunt to his mom when she showed up with a bunch of groceries. He ignored whatever she was talking about.

There was a knock at the door.

"Mom door!" Stan yelled.

"Honey I'm cooking." Sharon shouted back from the kitchen.

"Shelly, door." Stan yelled upstairs.

Shelly poked her head out her bedroom to give Stan a death glare. She dare not hit him or even give him shit, the fragile little turd. But since he returned, he was even brattier than usual. Stan continued playing PlayStation and eating cheesy poofs.

"No Stan, you have to do things for yourself if you want to get better." Shelly yelled back from the landing of the stairs.

"Mom said you have to treat me special." Stan yelled back.

"Yeah and I say you have to do things for yourself." The doorbell rang once more. "It's probably one of your turd friends anyway."

Shelly came down the stairs, Stan thinking he has won for a moment. Shelly had promised she would be careful with him, but she would not put up with this attitude. She grabbed the controller out of his hand and pointed at the door once more.

"Door, turd."

Stan rolled his eyes "Fine." his dad was still camping in the backyard, his mom was cooking or whatever. He had no idea who it was.

Stan opened the door to an uncomfortable looking Kenny and Kyle. "What?" Stan asked.

"Your mom invited us to dinner." Kenny said.

"What is this a soup kitchen? Tired of pop tarts?" Stan mocked.

"Hi, Stan." Kyle said bitterly as he stepped into the Marsh house. Stan ignored Kyle. The boys sat awkwardly on the couch for a moment, not saying anything.

The doorbell rang again, and Stan opened the door to find Uncle Jimbo on his doorstep. "Hi, Uncle Jimbo." Stan sighed.

"Hello, Stanley. How are you feeling?" Jumbo smiled pleasantly as he entered the house.

Sharon poked her head out from the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, boys."

"Randy has been banned from kitchen?" Jimbo said with a laugh as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"Yes, at Stan's request and Shelly agreeing. I think everyone is happier." Sharon replied smiling.

"What's for dinner?" Kyle asked, desperate to make conversation with Stan.

"Come in, boys and see." Sharon called as she went back to the stove.

As the boys walked in Stan saw what his mom was cooking. "Really, Mom? Did you listen to me at all?"

"You requested spaghetti this morning." Said Sharon as she pulled some breadsticks out of the oven.

"I wanted it with Alfredo sauce." Stan whined.

"Sorry, Stanley. Normally marinara is what you think when you request spaghetti." Sharon said with a little laugh.

"Not good enough, go back to the store." Stan said darkly.

Sharon wiped her forehead, trying not to lose her temper at her son. "Well I'm sorry it's what we're having. Why don't you go check on your father and uncle."

Stan angrily grabbed a breadstick and stomped off. Sparky whined but put his tail between his legs when Stan passed.

"Dude, don't be a dick to your mom." Kenny said as the boys entered the backyard.

Kyle was still trying to talk to Stan but kept off to the side, hands in his pockets.

Jimbo and Randy were sitting under a tree, drinking and looking at the sky. "It's a good night to track where we are." Jimbo mentioned.

"At home?" Stan said.

"Hey Jimbo, where's Ned?" Kyle asked again trying to make conversation.

"Off with his new girlfriend. Sharon invited me." Jimbo said.

Kenny let out a "woo hoo" remembering how hot Nurse Goodly was.

"Yeah..." Kyle looked out through the forest towards Wendy's house. He hoped she got their note and was protecting herself.

"Well as long as Ned's happy I can't fault him too much for going off to get laid."  
Jimbo continued.

Kyle realized he could get some help. He nudged Kenny and whispered a plan to him.

"Oh man Kenny, I don't think survival reality shows are cool at all." Said Kyle loudly.

"Oh yeah, Kyle. It's all about monster hunting. Hey, didn't you see something behind Wendy Testaburger's house this morning." Kenny thought they were being really over the top, but noticed Stan perk up at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

Stan came up to check out the night sky. "So now you're seeing Manbearpig because you have no friends? How desperate for attention are you?" Stan laughed at Kyle.

"So now we're not friends anymore, Stan?" Kyle said, hurt but not surprised.

"Monster hunting shows are what's popular now?" Randy asked.

"And we can go hunt it." Jimbo echoed.

"That's it, boys get in your uncle's truck. We're off to shoot a tv pilot." Randy said as he headed inside to grab his video camera.

The kids found themselves in the middle of the South Park woods. The temperature dropped as it got darker, so everyone gathered around a campfire Jimbo had built. Normally they would be roasting marshmallows and hotdogs, but Randy had insisted they were surviving and had to either hunt or gather anything they were to use. Of course, there was no excuse that the adults didn't have a cooler of beer and liquor in the truck.

Everyone remarked on it was a good night to be out. The night of the full moon and a rare clear sky. It illuminated the forest in silver shadows once the moon reached the highest point in the sky. If they had gone to Glimmer Corp on a night like this, maybe none of this would have happened, Kyle thought bitterly.

Randy and Jimbo had the boys patrol the woods near Wendy's house. Kyle wondered if he would be forced to do this constantly until they caught Stanbearpig. He still hadn't been able to get ahold of Wendy. The windows in the Testaburger's house were dark when they passed by.

Stan was still ignoring Kyle, which hurt a lot. He pushed aside memories of the good times they had, trying to focus at the task at hand. Jimbo was trying to build a little shelter for them to sleep in. Kyle knew the Stanbearpig had to be the key to fixing everything, if it were possible.

"Perfect Kyle, you're just in shot. Now I'm going to start filming. Is it spooky story time?" Randy said as he pulled out his video camera and set it up on a tripod. "Now I won't spill my beer."

"Yeah and you can give us the info to track this monster for our tv pilot." Jimbo laughed also grabbing another beer.

Kyle felt himself put on the spot, but he could work this to his advantage. The group gathered around the campfire and in front of the camera.

"I say we hunt for the real Manbearpig." Kyle started. "But we bring him back safely to be...studied."

"I say we kill him!" Stan interrupted.

"Oooh good tension." Randy said as Kyle rolled his eyes

"Characteristics? That way we can track him." Jimbo asked more to the camera than Kyle.

Kyle continued. "He's eight-foot-tall, ears and nose of a pig, blue eyes, black fur."

"Behavior? So, we know what to look for when tracking him?" Jimbo asked, marking notes down on a paper.

Kyle looked over at Stan, again wishing his good characteristics would be returned to him one day.

"The manbearpig long ago rescued wild animals that had been trapped in captivity, as they had been mistreated by humans. He's their protector. He's not as open and trustful as he was in the past, the world hasn't been so kind to him back. But he would do anything for his friends, the creatures of the forest he swore to protect. He's athletic, musical, kind."

"You can track him by a trail of vomit. As the Manbearpig is always looking for his mate." Kenny added with a smirk.

"Manbearpig's best friend misses him very much and is very sorry." Kyle said softly.

Kyle looked at Stan from across the campfire, hoping for some recognition would show up. Instead Stan knitted his brows together. "That monster sounds dumb as hell. I say shoot it and mount it's head on the wall."

Kyle's anger bubbled up. Why bother treating Stan like Stan. There were two Cartmans in his life at this point. "Scuzzlebutt sounded weird and he turned out to be true." He shot back.

"Well if I see Manbearpig I'll be sure to shoot it in the head as well." Stan said, grumbling and pulling out his phone and turning his back.

Asshole comments was worse than being ignored. "After all we've been through together this is how it ends? This?" Kyle jumped up. "Fine. I- I have to use the bathroom, excuse me."

Kyle left the campfire, trying to not let his anger explode. He wanted to throttle Stan, smack him, punch him in the face until he snapped out of it. He thought Cartman was good at pushing his buttons, it was worse to see his best friend pulling the same shit.

Well, former best friend.

Kyle looked up at how clear the sky looked tonight, sighing with resignation he was never going to get his friendship back. He cursed as he realized what he had damned Stan to be, and how it would never go back to being like the old days.

A hand reached for Kyle's shoulder making him jump. "Jesus Christ, Kenny you scared me."

"You ok, dude?" Kenny asked.

"Stan's never going to be the same, is he? And it's all my fault." Kyle said, blinking back tears.

"Dude, it's ok. We'll figure this out." Kenny thought for a moment of more comfort he could offer, when the sound of a branch breaking came from the side.

The large menacing beast came rumbling from out of the thick brush, it stood over the two boys. Seven feet tall, black hair that looked blue in the moonlight, eyes piercing down at them. It was either a trick of light or Kyle's hopeful imagination, but he recognized that look.

Kenny cringed a little pulling the strings of his hoodie, wondering if he was about to see Kyle's head ripped off. The Stanbearpig and Kyle cautiously approached each other in the clearing. They circled for a moment, almost like a dance. Kyle reached his hand out to pet the Stanbearpig on the head like a dog. "I'm sorry dude. I didn't want this...to happen to you. We'll try to fix you."

"That's not what I'd want."

Kenny turned to the voice behind him to see Stan on the other side of the clearing. His father's gun in his hand, one eye closed, and aiming directly at the Stanbearpig.

"Wait...what the fuck?" Stan cried out, getting a good look at the damn thing. Finally recognizing his past self. "No, no, goodbye you pussy."

Kenny jumped smacking the gun out of Stan's hand. The gun went off, and for a moment Kenny instinctively ducked. When he realized he was okay, he looked over, a prick of fear that Kyle had accidentally been shot.

Lord knows he would never hear the end of it every time he'd see Kyle on the other side.

The bullet struck Stanbearpig in the arm, the creature roared and pushed Kyle away from him, throwing the boy against the ground as it took off running again. Randy and Jimbo came running up in the forest.

"Uncle Jimbo, I saw Manbearpig. It was coming right for us. I shot at it but missed, it took off." Stan said hurriedly.

"This is perfect, the lighting for tonight is going to be perfect for shooting our pilot. Randy, I got my gun if you have your video camera." Jimbo shouted as they took off running in the woods.

Kenny went over to Kyle, helping him to his feet. "You ok dude? You got hit hard."

"Yeah." Kyle said shakily, looking down. "I don't think anything's broken."

"Good. I thought that thing killed you, I don't think I could handle seeing you..." Kenny trailed off.

Dead, on the other side.

Stan had tried to run after his father and uncle, but his newly chubby figure had slowed him down. Stan was bent over, catching his breath. "Son of a bitch, they didn't even get me shooting the damn thing on camera."

Kenny wasn't even sure, but maybe there was a chance...

Instead of going for the innocent Stanbearpig, Kenny had desperate grasp of what he could do. If he was destined to be the cleanup crew for this whole adventure, then so be it. The preverbal garbage man. Scorch the earth.

Picking up the gun he swung it around and pointed it at Stan. "I'm sorry dude, I'll see the real you on the other side." Kenny said as he pulled the trigger.

A small boy with a big gun caused a kickback which made the bullet land in the area between Stan's belly and chest. Not exactly a bullseye but Stan fell back, surprised expression frozen onto his face.

"Oh my god Stan, no. Kenny why..." Kyle couldn't even get the whole sentence out as he limped up to Stan. He put his hands over the wound to stop the bleeding, desperately trying to feel for a pulse. Stan's eyes were blank, as cold and still as the full moon reflected back into them.

"I'm sorry Kyle. I'm going to fix this; I'm going to fix everything." Kenny put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.


	12. R.I.P.

Kyle was in hell.

Three days had passed since Stan and Kenny's murder/suicide. Kyle was trying to figure out why Kenny had done it, why hadn't the bastard just killed him too?

Kyle hadn't left his bed, hardly had eaten, and just tried to sleep. Dark dreamless sleep. Wondering if Stan would show up and which version. Normal Stan? Evil Stan? Cold dead Stan? Kyle didn't bother looking at his phone, he knew it was filled with notifications of condolence and sympathy. He knew instead he would look over old text threads between him and Stan. It hurt too much to even peek, so Kyle had let the phone die.

Kyle's parents brought their weighted blanket for him to use. It was supposed to be good for sleep, a constant hug since Kyle didn't want anyone to touch him right now. He knew they used strait jackets for the same reason. Kyle kept the blanket over his head, a dark silent cave. He overheard his mother's worry in a hushed tone, saying kids could be suffocated under a weighted blanket. His father insisted it was for the best in the meantime. They put Kyle on the waitlist for therapy but were discussing more intense treatment for him.

Kyle peeked out of his covers over at Stan's rabbit in its cage. If his parents were going to institutionalize him, he'd have to teach his brother to feed, water, and clean the cage. Ike could give it a real name, since it had only been known as Stan's rabbit so far. Kyle slid out of bed and went over, refilled the rabbit's food and water. He put more medicine on the rabbit's face, its sores were clearing up and the rabbit looked healthier. Probably best to teach Ike sooner than later. If that weighted blanket did smother him, he'd at least see Stan again. He could ask Kenny what he meant by fixing everything. He wanted to think Kenny accidentally shot Stan and killed himself in guilt. Kyle wished he had died instead, even if Stan hadn't been the same for weeks.

Kyle looked out his bedroom window. It was about a twelve-foot drop. There was rope in the garage. There were pills in his parent's bathroom cabinet. Kyle picked up Stan's rabbit and held it close, tears squeezing out of his tired eyes. The little creature calmly settling against him, Kyle wishing her could get the comfort back from the bunny he was giving it. The rabbit would miss him, his friends and family would miss him. But Kyle couldn't get the dark thoughts out of his mind. No wonder his parents were going to send him to the psych ward.

Stan was in hell.

The huge crowd was so packed together Stan felt like he was going to be crushed. The only direction he could see was up, a large rocky cavern with flames licking from the sides. Frightened screams echoing around him as Stan joined in. Sweat tricking down his neck and back, he wanted to take his jacket off but a painful feeling around his chest and stomach area prevented him from doing so. He had been shot! The atmosphere was so claustrophobic and suffocating but his mind could not handle if there was damage under his coat. Stan's family was Catholic so he thought he was saved, but he must have been bad in his life. Maybe he got sent here because of his post car accident behavior.

He remembered everything, the car crash, him being gravely injured, Kyle and Cartman using Mephesto to save him, Kenny covering evidence. The operation had gone wrong and he had been terrible to everyone, Butters, Scott, his family, Cartman, Kenny, Wendy, Kyle.

He deserved being sent to hell, even if the phantom pain through his heart ached forever. Kenny had done the right thing. He was turning into a monster.

Stan was lead through the crowd, it gradually thinned to a blonde girl holding a bunch of leis. "Luau is right over there."

"Why should I bother?" Stan asked. Looking over as the residents of hell seemingly having a great time, laughing and dancing with tiki drinks in their hands. Ignoring fire and ash raining down on them.

The girl gave a sympathetic smile, placing the lei around Stan's neck. "Oh, come on, it's not so bad, these will make you feel better. When you're ready we're having a limbo contest right over there, hula dancing lessons, or you can get something to eat from the buffet over there."

"How is this supposed to help?" Stan asked again.

"Breathe in, you haven't forgotten to do that, yet have you? You don't want to lose your humanity."

Stan breathed in, the sweet scent of tropical flowers helping cover up the smell of burning, rotting flesh, and shit that was hell.

"Feel better?" The girl asked.

"Not really." Stan said flatly.

"It's ok, it gets easier. You're never fully dammed if you hold onto your humanity." The girl smiled at him.

A voice broke out through the crowd. "Oh Jon Benet! We need an extra set of hands to make more leis!"

"Coming!" The little girl replied sweetly, running off with her basket of flowers before Stan could thank her.

Stan shuffled into the line, blinking back tears. Why did the dead need to eat? Breathe? Socialize? Cry? Have fun? It was all so pointless. His humanity had already been lost on earth. He was handed a plate of roast pig, grilled pineapple, and was surprised to see some salisbury steak. A comfort food.

Stan looked up to see a familiar face behind the food counter.

"Hello there, Children." The deep booming voice said in surprise.

Stan broke down, tears running down his cheeks as he rushed in to give Chef a hug.

Kenny was not in hell.

Which was weird since being an apparent murderer was supposed to send you straight to hell. Well normally, but Kenny knew he was always the exception to the rule.

The world he was in was soft focus, a violet light and a sound of a nearby stream. Something familial and soothing about this place that would have Kenny want to curl up in a fetal position for a nap.

Kenny lazily looked though at the river. He dipped his fingers in it, the river was as warm and soothing as a bath. The more he looked the more it seemed to stretch on and grow wider across. The soothing warmth was broken by a slight squeak. The grim reaper was riding around on his tricycle.

"Hey, have you seen a friend of mine?" Kenny asked. "A boy with a red poofball hat and brown jacket?"

Grim stopped his trike. He pointed a finger forward which made Kenny move back instinctively, but Grim touched the river and it parted. Kenny peeked and saw flames and a large crowd.

Now Kenny had a general direction where to start looking, but he felt himself growing tired. He thanked his old frenemy. He settled down by the riverside, his eyes growing heavy and his body relaxing, like his existence was being pulled in another direction.

Cartman was in heaven.

His mom had bought him a game called Persona 5 Royal and Cartman had been playing all weekend.

His bedroom door opened. His mother entered, sniffling. "I just got word, your little friends Stanley and Kenny were killed on Friday."

Cartman snorted. "And Kyle?" He asked.

"He's ok, he was the only one not hurt."

Cartman threw his controller across the room. "What this is bullshit?" He yelled at his mom.

"I know this news is upsetting. The funeral is in a few days. Take as much time as you need sweetie." Liane put a hand on her son's shoulder.

Cartman considered, the sequel to his game was out in a few weeks. "I'll need at least a month of mourning."

"Yes sweetie. Anything else?"

"Yeah mom, more cookies and cheesy poofs. Now get out of my room."

Cartman sighed as he got up to retrieve his controller. "What fucking dumbasses." He muttered to himself.

Stan sat in Chef's little condo, noting how Chef's taste in decor hadn't changed a bit. Chef hadn't changed either, he sang to himself as he made Stan a mug of cocoa and put a blanket around his shoulders. Stan count helping laugh a little, it was easily 100 degrees, but the gesture was appreciated.

"I'm sorry children you got shot while out hunting. That's too bad." Chef took a seat across from Stan at his kitchen table.

"Maybe Kenny got into heaven for doing it. I was a monster on earth." Stan sighed adding a few marshmallows to his mug.

"Oh, I know how that goes, children. Right before my death I had a twisted version of myself going out saying he wanted to molest children." Chef sighed, as he placed a cookie jar on the table.

"Oh yeah. But we tried hard to fix you. I guess we failed." Stan thought bitterly that Kyle and Kenny had failed him as well.

"I hate to think there's still a part of me still out there controlled by the Super Adventure Club."

"Yeah there's some kind of beast that's a part of me out there too, I don't know if it's ok or even alive, still I shot it." Stan grimaced at what a hypocrite he had become.

"If there's people out there still trying for you, there's a chance. I'm just missing a puzzle piece."

Stan looked up. "Puzzle piece?"

Chef looked both ways before gesturing for Stan to follow him into the other room. Chef pulled back a curtain to show off a shrine. Various statutes, glass bottles, incense, tapestries sat on a low altar.

"This is voodoo from Scotland my parents taught me. They say they've brought someone back from the dead once before but can't give me the answers. I'm missing a puzzle piece." Chef explained.

"Hmm like Cthulhu or something?" Stan asked.

Chef laughed, "What? No! But I think to come back from the dead you need to have an avatar still walking the earth."

"Like your Darth Chef or Stanbearpig?"

"That's right, you need an avatar, a dead soul, victim child...and three fiddy."

The entire town had showed up to Stan's funeral. Wendy sat near the middle of the crowd with her parents. The wind had picked up and the day looked overcast as the crowd gathered at the cemetery.

The Marsh family sat apart, Sharon and Randy on opposite sides of the aisle, as if this were a wedding and not a funeral. Sharon had her face in her hands, crying into a wadded-up bundle of tissues with Uncle Jimbo's arm around her. Randy looked drunk, tears rolling down his cheeks and him occasionally yelling "oh, Stan" interrupting the annoyed looking priest giving the service.

Wendy's eye went to Stan's sister Shelly. Her face was neutral, posture stiff, her legs crossed elegantly under her skirt. She was putting on a brave face as her parents were falling apart.

Kyle looked like he was being propped up between his parents, eyes hollow looking. Everyone was saying Kyle was the one to find Stan. Not just one life was destroyed that night. He might never come back to school.

The service ended in prayer and then the part Wendy had been dreading. She got up in the procession to pass the casket before it was committed to the earth. She picked a red rose off a tray and tossed it on the mahogany casket, tears welling in her eyes. She went down the line, shook hands with Uncle Jimbo. Sharon threw her arms around Wendy and sobbed, stroking her hair before she released and threw her arms around the next person in line. Randy patted her on the head before taking another swig from a flask. No one said anything.

Shelly was next in line. "I'm sorry about your brother." Wendy said softly.

"I'm sorry about your boyfriend. I've lost a boyfriend too. Both are hard." Shelly whispered back.

Wendy was surprised to be recognized by Stan's sister. "I don't know how to feel." She admitted.

"I don't either." Shelly said glumly.

Wendy cautiously approached Shelly to give her a pat on the shoulder. To her surprise the older girl pulled her into a hug, her grip tight and strong. She felt the headgear press into her hair and cheek and heard a sob come out from Shelly. That's what made Wendy finally lose it as she cried herself, buried in the dark of Shelly's embrace.

Kyle sat off to the side, seeing Wendy had broken Shelly, both were crying and hugging each other. Kyle didn't have the strength to go into the procession line, he was waiting to sit by the grave once the crowd had died down.

"Hey, dude."

Kyle looked up. "Oh hey, Kenny. Where were you?"

"Ah, I was just over there. How are you?"

"I don't even know. I'm here for Stan but I just want to go back to bed and not have to talk to anyone." Kyle said, his voice cracking.

"Well I'm here for you dude." Kenny took a seat next to Kyle, cautiously putting an arm around his shoulder. Both boys feeling this was all their fault. Kenny unsure if he would be able to see Stan again.

Kyle's voice broke out again in a sob. "I just want to see him again. I'd give anything." Kyle covered his face in his hands and buried his head into Kenny's shoulder.

Kenny pulled Kyle into a hug when another group approached the boys.

"The sincerest emotion is grief." Said Michael, a tall curly haired boy dressed in black.

"Yeah, you're raw when the mourning is fresh." Pete said, flicking the red streaked hair out of his eyes.

Kenny waited for Kyle lash out at these goth kids for seemingly drinking in the sadness at their friend's death.

"I just wish I could see him one last time." Kyle sobbed.

The goth kids looked around for a moment, before the girl leaned in. "I've been studying how to contact the dead." Henrietta said, taking a drag off her cigarette.

"Oh yeah?" Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Henrietta has become a mistress of the arcane." Said Firkle, playing with his switch blade.

"We're having a seance tonight to try and contact Raven. You're invited, you were his best friends." Henrietta offered.

Kenny almost laughed but Kyle looked up, almost hopeful. "Ok. I'd like to see what you can do."

That night, Kenny found himself tagging along to Henrietta's house to humor Kyle and laugh at the goth kids. He picked Kyle up from his house so they could walk there together. He never had been afraid of Mrs. Broflovski, but his anxiety did shoot up when she pulled Kenny to the side. Asking to take care of her son, let her know right away if he wasn't feeling or acting right.

"But he hasn't been acting right, everyone can see that." Kenny argued.

Sheila sighed. "I know, Kenny dear. Just keep an eye on him."

Kenny and Kyle walked in silence to the Biggle's house. Kyle quiet, eyes red, thoughts scattered.

Don't mention Stan. Don't mention Stan. "So... it's getting cold again." Kenny offered.

Kyle sighed. "It's like that night of the accident. It hasn't snowed this bad since then... I have a bad feeling."

"We don't have to go; we can go to a movie or to the mall instead." Kenny suggested.

"No, you don't get it, Kenny. I have this bad feeling and it never goes away. It won't go away no matter what I do." Kyle's voice grew wary, "I wish it had been me."

Kenny felt bad at the horror he had caused. He had been too hard on Kyle. "No, don't say that. No one would wish that, especially him."

Kyle shook his head but said nothing. The two boys walked in awkward silence the rest of the way.

With some relief the boys reached the Biggle house and were led inside by Henrietta's nice looking parents.

After Kenny and Kyle were escorted to her room, Henrietta screamed at her mom to leave her alone and door shut behind them.

With some flourish Henrietta pulled back a black cloth to reveal a crystal ball, a pack of tarot cards, crystals, and a statue of some goddess with huge boobs. The other goth kids lit some black candles as well as their cigarettes as some synth and bass heavy music was put on.

"Come, join us in the coven circle." Said Pete, messing with his iPhone.

Kyle obediently sat down. Kenny scooted off to the side, his back pressed to Henrietta's dresser. He had a good view of the action while also keeping an eye on Kyle.

Henrietta started. "We invoke the goddess Persephone to be our tether to the underworld. Use your power, goddess and put us in contact with our dear Raven."

"Stan." Kyle said.

"What?" Henrietta said back.

"He wouldn't respond to Raven. Ask for Stan." Said Kyle, crossing his arms.

Henrietta rolled her eyes and the other goth kids muttered 'conformist' at Kyle. "Use your power to put us in contact with Stan."

She pulled out her tarot deck and pulled cards, moving them in front of her.

A gust of wind came from the window and made the candles flicker, the cards scatter.

"Shut the goddamn window!" Henrietta screamed.

"No way, then we can't smoke in here!" Pete argued back.

"Just do it, the cards are all scattered." Henrietta said getting up to get her missing cards.

Kenny jumped slightly to get out of the way while Michael went to close the window, causing him to bump the dresser. The stereo fell over as well as a few items of Henrietta's makeup, perfume bottles, and a black piggy bank, which shattered, coins spilling across the floor.

"That's a good sign, Rav-Stan is that you?" Henrietta called out.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Yeah Stan, you didn't like that song?" He said sarcastically.

"It's the song. We need to change it." Pete pulled out his phone while he and Firkle got into picking the right mood music.

This was the dumbest shit ever. Kenny got up to pick the items off the floor. Then he saw it.

The silver of the spilled coins dipped and vibrated, like a dull mirror Kenny could see through. He looked around, the Pete and Firkle arguing over the music, Michael picking up and relighting the candles. Henrietta looking for the cards from her deck that flew away under her bed. Kyle remained seated, staring off into space. Could no one else see what Kenny saw?

He kept staring and saw an image. "Stan?" Kenny whispered seeing his friend, but Stan not seeing him back. Screw that big tittied statue, maybe Kenny was the goddess of the underworld who could reach Stan. He was a Japanese princess once, anything was possible. Kenny touched the coin mirror and saw his hand could dip into the floor, the same warm bath feeling of the grim reaper's river.

"Kyle, dude. Am I the only one who can see this shit?" Kenny asked louder, trying to get his friend's attention.

Kenny reached forward seeing if he could get Stan to see him. A loud squeak rang in his ears, the grim reaper's tricycle. An electrical jolt in his brain, a violet aura clouded his vision. Kenny reached once more. "Stan!" He shouted and saw Stan look up and silently yell back and try to reach up.

Kenny felt arms around him, being pulled close. He looked up into Kyle's concerned face.

"It's ok, Kenny, we're gonna get you to a hospital." Kyle said.

Kenny struggled against Kyle's grip, trying to push him away. "Let me go, let me go... Stan, let me go."

The last thing he remembered was the terrified look on Kyle's face as Kenny's vision faded to black.

Stan had been looking over Chef's voodoo shrine, trying to take in all he was telling him as Chef put on his traditional dress of a feathered mask, elaborate wings, and two torches.

"So your plan is to find some gateway to bring the dead back to life?" Stan asked.

"Yes, my parents were able to do it but never could give me the details. I've spent my time in hell making sweet love to many women and practicing the art of Scottish voodoo in my spare time. I've figured out we need a dead soul and an avatar still on earth." Chef explained.

"Like how your avatar is Darth Chef?" Stan asked.

"That's right, I just can't locate him. The Super Adventure Club travels so much. Your avatar is still just prowling the woods near Stark's Pond."

"So, you're using me to see if it's possible before you locate yourself?"

"I need some kind of base line and the missing puzzle piece to see if it's even possible."

"Good thing I'm so average I'll be a good control subject." Stan said with a laugh.

He and Chef sat in front of the alter. Stan lit the candles at the end of Chef's torches, feeling like a sorcerer's apprentice. Chef started to chant. If you had told Stan a month ago, he would be doing this shit, he would have told you to go sixty-nine yourself along with John Edward. Now here he was, a dead soul trying to make contact.

Stan felt a tingle at the top of his head, an almost static chill down his spine. He looked up, his vision murky, as if he were at the bottom of a pool looking up. Making out the shape of an orange parka staring down at him. He saw Kenny silently trying to say something. "Look, Chef it's Kenny."

"I can't see him, Stan, get closer. Try to reach for him and watch your eyes."

Stan jumped up on the alter, standing on tiptoes before he saw Kenny yanked away. Stan cursed before he saw a shattering of a glass jar hit the ceiling above him, three dollars and fifty cents in exact change raining down on him, making the murkiness part. He put his hand up once more, yelping in surprise as fingers grasped his. Stan pulled and Kenny found himself yanked into the bedroom of Chef, falling on the floor next to Stan as the alter broke and items scattered everywhere.

Stan got up, dusting off broken glass and coins. "Kenny, is it really you?"

"I should say, is it really you?" Kenny asked back.

Stan embraced his old friend. "It is. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm happy to see you, dude." Stan stepped back, a wave of sadness overtaking him. "But this means you're dead too."

Kenny let out a little laugh. "It's okay, Stan. I die and come back all the time."

"What?" Stan yelled.

"Hello there children." Kenny looked up in surprise and gave Chef a hug.

"This is the first, well second time I've actually seen people I know all the times I've been down here." Kenny said excitedly.

Chef smiled, putting his hands on both boy's shoulders. "Children, I think we just found our missing puzzle piece."

Wendy walked through the streets of town, after Stan's funeral. She had to get out of her own house. She had gotten the note to stay away from the forest, so she stayed on the main streets. She wasn't sure what Kenny meant by it and she didn't see him at the funeral to ask.

She couldn't help herself; she passed the Marsh home noting the lights were on. Even the light that was in Stan's room. She wondered which one of his family members was currently in his room, trying to make sense of the tragedy that happened.

Wendy pulled her jacket closer to her as wind and snow swirled around her. She crossed the street to the cemetery next to the South Park church. To a small freshly dug mound of earth, no headstone yet.

She bent at the knees and put her hand to the dirt. Smoothing the sides to make it perfectly symmetrical. The falling snow hindering any effort to smooth the icy earth. Maybe just like her relationship with Stan. Wendy was relived no one else was around, she wanted to do this alone.

"You...you fucking idiot!" Wendy yelled in frustration, shocked that was the first thing out of her mouth. Sorrow overtaking her anger as sobs wracked her body once again. "I cared about you so much. You were my first love. Why did you have to die?"

Half a short lifetime spent together, high highs and low lows. Wendy's overwhelming guilt, her cries broke through the still and snowy night. She heard movement from the woods behind her but ignored it.

"I feel so bad about our final conversation, you have no idea. I wanted you to be happy and safe. That's all I wanted. I have no idea if we were ever destined to be together, we kept being torn apart. But how could you be so stupid? You just had to keep yourself safe. Why do you never listen?"

Wendy took a deep breath before continuing her word vomit.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all our fights. I can say it now. I do love you. I love you, Stan Marsh and I'm so sorry. I'd do anything to see your face again."

A big crash made Wendy turn around, the wooden fence splintered as a large creature, big as a bear, face of a pig, and blue eyes came towards her. Wendy screamed, as it tore through the graveyard, knocking headstones over. Wendy ran over to the church building and pulled on the doors. Locked of course. The creature kept coming over, it seemed to be limping on one of its legs which gave Wendy an advantage.

She hopped the fence and took off down the street. The creature roared as it followed behind her, crashing through that fence as well. Wendy's house was too far away but she was near her mom's office. It was after hours but Wendy had a key for emergencies.

She ran to the building and pulled out her keys, cursing as she dropped them in the snow. A scramble as her hand closed around the keychain and jammed the key in the lock, pulling open the heavy door and slamming it behind her.

The beast roared through the thick glass of the door. The monster slashed at the wood with its claws and howled once more as Wendy went to her mom's desk to call 911. She heard the door shake, the beast repeatedly slamming on it, worried it would get kicked in before help could arrive. She shoved a desk and a table in front of the door and braced herself.

Then silence.

She peeked out the window and saw it had left. Wendy pressed her back to the wall as she waited for help to come. She buried her face in her hands and cried. The creature's cries echoed hers as Stanbearpig retreated back into the woods.

God was punishing Kyle. That had to be it.

For the second time in a week, another one of Kyle's friends had died in his arms. This one was more terrifying, since Stan was already gone once Kyle found him. Kyle actually saw the light leave Kenny's eyes. His final words haunted Kyle. He kept saying Stan's name. Maybe Kenny had the seance on the brain, or in his dying state he accidentally thought Kyle was Stan when Kyle went to help him off the floor after his first seizure. With some satisfaction, the goth kid's apathetic looks were broken, they actually looked terrified as Kenny lay dying in front of them. Kenny's heart had stopped during his second seizure and the paramedics hadn't been able to revive him. Doctors figured Kenny had some undiagnosed heart or brain condition, autopsy results pending.

Kyle wouldn't be around to find out the autopsy results. Kyle himself had died once, electrocuted by the Imaginationland Gateway. But he had no memory of the details, other than Cartman gloating about it. Kyle still had no confirmation of an afterlife. He had seen ghosts, aliens and Stanbearpigs. But no afterlife.

His ulterior motive for accepting Henrietta's invitation was he wanted confirmation if there was an afterlife and a chance to see Stan again. He went to the goth kids, first to see if they could contact Stan, secondly to get his mom off his back that he was socializing, third he was looking for a sign. Kenny dying in front of him and calling for Stan was sign enough.

Maybe it was more of an excuse.

This is why Kyle was walking through the woods rope slung over his shoulder. He was looking for the now demolished Glimmer Corp building. It was about halfway between there and Mephesto's home, where they had crashed Stan's dad's truck.

That's where Kyle planned to hang himself.

After Stan and Kenny broke Chef's alter, they offered to clean up for him so he could entertain a lady visitor.

Kenny held the dustpan while Stan swept. They had to separate the change from the glass. Even if they were picking through broken glass, this was the happiest Stan had been in a long time. "So, you die all the time, and come back the next day? How long have you been like that?"

"All my life. I call it a curse because dying hurts." Kenny said darkly.

"Well I know that now." Stan hugged himself around the middle.

"I think your body will just revert back to how it was before. That's how it's always was for me." Kenny explained, dumping more shards of glass into a trash can.

Stan hesitated, then unbuttoned his coat and looked down. Just a plain T-shirt. "Oh, thank god. I couldn't imagine walking around with a big hole in my stomach."

"I would probably have no body at this point." Kenny shrugged. "I've been burnt, shot, stabbed, electrocuted, run over, drowned, took my own life numerous times."

"Man what a pussy I am, I got shot once and didn't survive." Both boys couldn't help but break into giggles, before Stan continued. "I'm so sorry dude, I wish I had known. I can't even imagine how hard that must be."

Kenny looked at Stan. "But for the first time I can share my secret with someone and have them believe. I would die, have you guys not remember, then laugh at me."

Both boys grew quiet as they continued to clean. Finally, Kenny broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I shot you."

"I'm sorry I never remembered your deaths and was an asshole about it." Stan said back.


	13. A Fate Worse Than Death

"Children, lunch."

Chef had made a meal of lightly breaded chicken breast, macaroni and cheese, and mixed vegetables. Comfort food.

One perk of Hell was enjoying Chef's cooking again. Not that dead people needed to eat, it was for pleasure and not nourishment.

"How's it going, children?" Chef asked as he sat down with Kenny and Stan.

"Bad." Stan and Kenny said in unison.

"Why bad?" Chef asked.

"Well, we're dead, Chef. When will things ever seem good again." Stan sighed, picking at his food.

"Now children, things may seem bad that we're all dead, but that death may just be temporary. When Kenny popped up, I remembered. My parents made the voodoo ceremony for him. He's the one who came back to life." Chef explained.

"What time was that?" Kenny asked with his mouth full, "All my dying kind of runs together after a while."

Stan looked over at Kenny. "Cartman drank your ashes thinking it was chocolate milk mix and had your soul in him for a few months. We needed to find a ticket for our candy shopping spree."

"Ew." Kenny said pushing his milk away.

"Yeah the avatar was walking on earth while the soul was in the afterlife." Chef explained. "My parent were able to bring it back with their Scottish voodoo."

"Yeah but, that's just me. I die and come back. I don't really know why." Kenny shrugged.

"I never realized how my parents were able to do it until you showed up." Chef said, putting more mac and cheese on each boy's plate.

"So, we would see if it would work by trying it out on me?" Stan asked.

Kenny pushed his plate away. "Honestly dude, staying dead is best. It's hard to go back and forth, it's torture to be stuck in this loop. I've tried to stay dead and can't last longer than nine months."

Stan sat back, embarrassed. He had been too eager and didn't consider Kenny's feelings. "If given the choice you'll stay in Hell than go back to the surface?"

"I'd stay with you if I could forever, Stan. This cozy little family we have in Hell is kind of nice." Kenny's eyes met Chef's.

Chef smiled "Aww children everyone faces the choice to cheat death for moral reasons. I know just the thing to help." Chef broke into song about making love to women.

Stan sucked in his breath, which was also a useless gesture. A subject that had been burning at the back of his mind since he arrived in Hell but hadn't had the courage to ask. "How's Kyle handling my death?" He asked Kenny.

Kenny dropped his fork and cursed; he went under the table to retrieve it.

That wasn't a good sign. "Well?" Stan pressed.

"You know the answer to that." Kenny said from under the table.

"Not good?" Stan said sticking his head below the table.

"He's a mess!" Kenny stood up angrily, interrupting Chef's song. "When I went to meet him to go to your seance his mom pulled me aside, his scary mom asked me to keep an eye on him."

"But he wasn't a monster. It had to be me." Stan thought dying had been the worst part of this, but now there were bigger things as stake.

Kenny sat back down. "He keeps saying he wished he had died instead of you."

"Kyle wouldn't do that. He's too smart to want to do that." Panic gripped at Stan. "Chef, can we use the voodoo to check in on Kyle?"

Kyle sat on the rock in the middle of the woods, phone in front of him with instructions to tie a noose. Jew Scouts gave him some idea to perfect his knots, but he wanted to make it right. He was ignoring phone notifications but saw once again his mom left him a concerned text that it was late, and he should get home.

I am going home. Kyle thought to himself.

The woods were getting dark; snow was falling lightly. Sunset burned from the west. Kyle was unsure who would go dark first, him or the sun. Suddenly a blaze of light appeared in front of him. Was he having some kind of burning bush hallucination? How stereotypical.

"Kyle! Don't do it!" Kenny's voice called out.

Kenny was weirded out with how he looked. Too shiny. The orange of his coat was blinding.

"What's the point Kenny? I can't go on like this." Kyle sniffed, for sure he had lost it now.

"Well, I know you won't listen to me." Kenny nodded and Stan stepped into view. Also, shiny and iridescent, his brown coat reflected a garnet like sheen.

Kyle gasped, and ran up to the apparition. Of course, he'd want to hug his best friend, but Stan was made of mist at this point.

"Kyle, if you kill yourself, you're going to end up in limbo, not in Hell with me and Kenny." Stan said, trying to reach out to Kyle, his hand passing through. It was useless.

"Why would you end up in Hell?" Kyle asked, confused.

Stan shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Kyle shook his head, maybe he finally had lost touch with reality. "Well how do I know you're the real Stan?"

"Kyle, dude. You tried to use a seance to contact me? Really?" Stan frowned at his friend but was touched- it really was a nice gesture l, even if that behavior left him open to be taken advantage of giant douches like John Edward.

"Well it has us talking now so something worked." Kyle's rage rose, but it cut away at his raw feelings. "I just miss you so much. Stan, I'm sorry for what I did."

"I don't blame you; I'd do anything to save your life as well. Mephesto had no idea what he was doing." Stan looked off to the side, as if asking for permission. "We have some good news."

"To cross over, you need to offer three dollars and fifty cents." Kenny said. "Chef would say hi, but we're using his power as a catalyst to talk to you."

"Wait, Chef is in Hell too?" Kyle asked, even more confused.

Kyle had his wallet on him for identification. He hesitated and pulled three-dollar bills on the ground along with the change in his pockets.

Kenny felt a pull and could get his arm out to pull himself out. He grabbed Stan's arm to pull him through, but the barrier of the watery mirror put a hard blockage to let Stan pass, zapping both boys' hands.

Kenny tore his glove off with his teeth, that shit had hurt. No damage. But Kenny could see his body was solid as he stood before Kyle. "See I can get out, Stan can't."

Stan remained in misty ghost form before his friends. "See, I'm not special." Stan laughed. "But Kenny is another level."

Kyle stood before a solid Kenny, touching him on the arm before jumping back. "What does that mean?

Kenny had been waiting for this. "My whole life, I can't die. Every time I do, I come back soon after."

Kyle's eyes went wide. "Holy shit."

"When I shot Stan, I shot myself after to go find him and got stuck in limbo. Then a week later I died naturally, and we found each other in hell. That's probably my last death you remember." Kenny said, still nursing the burn at the tips of his fingers.

"That's why you can't kill yourself m, Kyle." Said Stan. "We wouldn't even end up in the same place. You'll be hanging out with my great grandpa Marsh and Kurt Cobain and shit."

Kyle was a bit embarrassed at the length of rope in front of him. He kicked it to the side and ran up and gave his Kenny a hug. "It's good to have you back, dude."

"I'm not going to stick around for long, I'll have to return to Stan because I promised I'd fix everything. We just wanted to make sure you're ok."

"I will be, or I've completely lost my mind. Either way I think things with turn around." Kyle promised.

In a blink of an eye both Kenny and Stan disappeared. Kyle took the rope down from the tree and let it fall down a nearby cliff. The boy sighed, it wasn't the best news, but for the first time in a while, the pit in Kyle's stomach didn't hurt so badly, his shoulders could relax a little, his world wasn't so bleak. He texted his mom back he would be home for dinner.

Stan and Kenny retuned to Hell, found Chef sitting down in his voodoo outfit, passed out.

"Chef are you ok?" Stan said worriedly. As both boys shook their temporary guardian. After a moment Chef's eyes fluttered open, as the boys helped him to his feet.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this. Letting you children cross over. If I weren't already dead, I think it would kill me."

Stan looked disappointed, but Kenny shook his head to talk to him outside. Both boys helped Chef to his bed and left him to sleep.

"Told you messing with this stuff is bad" Kenny said, taking a seat on a bench.

"Well I have to try and cross over." Stan said, leaning against a cement column."

Kenny narrowed his eyes. "Watch it with the selfishness, Stan."

"You don't get it Kenny. You can come back whenever you want." Stan slumped down; this was hopeless.

Kenny stood over Stan. "What is some of that Cartman still in your personality? I don't die on purpose and I don't enjoy it."

"We promised Kyle both of us would come back to him." Stan said through his arms.

Kenny couldn't believe this shit. "You die once and you're the expert? You are so goddamn stupid. You don't know how lucky you are. You died; I went to your funeral it was fucking sad dude. You're...you're lucky you got that."

Stan started to walk away. "So, I'm lucky because I'm dead and in hell?"

"You're lucky because you're normal, you're not a freak of nature like me. You have the privilege of dying and staying dead."

"Oh thank you Kenny for shooting me in the stomach." Stan waved his arms sarcastically.

"You goddamn pussy. You were DOA. You didn't have to suffer. You have no idea how much I've died, how much I've suffered, how much pain I've been through. You don't know how good you have it, the rules apply to you. Everything is fair in your world. You're too cynical to even see that. I'd give my life and my deaths for even a moment of that. But please, cry again about being overlooked and mislabeled."

Stan launched himself at Kenny as the two boys got into a fist fight. Stan sat on Kenny's chest, punching him in the face with both hands. Kenny grabbed Stan around the neck, he would choke the life of the ungrateful son of a bitch even if it was impossible.

Both boys felt themselves lifted up and apart by the scruff of their jackets. Stan grimaced as he looked right into the face of Satan.

"Boys, boys. What is the meaning of this?" Satan asked.

Stan wanted to spill but saw Kenny shake his head slightly. It would be best if they didn't get into trouble.

"Well I think we need to have a talk. Join me in my chambers." Satan said grimly as he lead the boys down a lava path.

Both boys gulped but followed Satan into the penthouse condo, overlooking historic downtown Hell.

Kenny was still angry at Stan and sat as far away as he could from him. Satan busied himself fussing in the kitchen and emerged a moment later with a full-service tea set and a three-layer serving tray stacked with petit fours, macarons, and gourmet finger sandwiches.

Kenny sat shocked at the abundance of food around him, it seems people in Hell were always eating and drinking. He kept the plain cup of tea in front of him, not sure if adding too much milk and sugar would change the taste too much.

"So why were you arguing, boys?" Satan asked.

Both boys remained quiet, Stan reached and started to nibble on a cookie. "These are great!" He remarked.

"Thanks, my ex taught me to make them." Satan put his cup down and buried his hands in his face, starting to sob.

Both boys sat awkwardly, Stan reached for a sandwich. "I know how you feel, I got dumped right before I... came here."

Satan looked up, wiping his tears away. "I mean you try and try and try and get so little in return. You're left with all this hurt to even think if it was worth it."

Kenny looked at both of them. "If they took you back would you be happy?"

A chorus of "No!" From Satan and surprisingly Stan.

"What? Wasn't this all about Wendy?" Kenny asked surprised.

"Well it started that way but look where it's landed me." Stan gestured to his surroundings. "No offense."

"None taken. Satan said. "You're with someone so long, you forget who you were in the beginning."

"I'm all for love and women, just. I hate to ask but I have this curse. And I'm trapped in my own hell. This is actually really nice." Kenny finally took a sip of tea and helped himself to some cake.

Satan looked over a Kenny, "I'll get to you in a moment. Tell me more about your relationship, Stan."

Kenny rolled his eyes, and took a sip of tea. He added cream and sugar, wondering if all the food they were eating in hell would make him fat and would it matter.

Stan continued to nibble on his food, still hadn't touched his tea. "I wanted to do something big, I wanted to help animals, I wanted to change the world for the better, I wanted her to notice and appreciate me again. Instead I'm here eating cookies in hell!" Stan took another bite. "Good cookies though."

"Sometimes you're better off just leaving things alone. It's better to be by yourself." Satan said, Kenny agreeing as he sipped from his teacup.

Stan sat back in his chair. "I'm really hurt, but I hate missing out on my life. I didn't want it to go this far."

"Excuse me." Satan got up from his chair. He put on a pair of delicate wire rimmed glasses and looked through various scrolls and papers on his desk. "Well here is your problem. You're a mistake, you're not even supposed to be here. Some anomaly brought you here."

It was Kenny's turn to sit back, he raised his hand sheepishly. "That was my fault."

Satan's eyes narrowed as he looked over his records. "It's not even that. It seems you were supposed to remain in a coma the rest of your natural life. A fate worse than death, hell is welcome over that. It seems you were given a second chance."

Stan's expression softened at what his friends had done for him. His eyes met Kenny's. "It's not so bad here, but there was so much I wanted to do with my life. A shame it was cut so short, even if it was deserved."

"Well if an immortal killed you, your death didn't count." Satan looked angry for a moment. "I can send you back if needed. I sent my ex back. He remains in the coma until he's eighty years old, then I'll have to deal with him again." He looked over at Stan's and Kenny's horrified faces. "No, that won't happen to you...I think."

"So there is another thing. Part of me still walks the earth, they put part of my brain in a monster that wanders the forest, terrorizing my ex-girlfriend apparently."

"Nice. I need something like that." Said Satan. "It would be permitted to reverse the death process. Just need to get rid of the other part of you where your body was last left."

"My grave?" Stan gulped.

"You'll get used to seeing your own grave." Kenny rolled his eyes. "Would it help if we threw three fiddy on top of it."

"Yes, that would help with passage to the living. But once this process starts, you'll only have 24 hours to complete it." Satan said.

"What happens if I fail?" Stan asked.

"Your soul will be down here forever or stuck in a coma forever. It depends how good you were in life." Satan explained, putting his papers away and sitting back down with the boys.

"That could be tricky." Stan looked over at Kenny. "But I'll do it. Just...kill me Kenny if it doesn't work."

Kenny put his teacup down and looked at Stan. Kenny hated that he died and came back, he didn't want his friend to be stuck in such a horrible loop. "Ok. Dude. Promise."

"And you Kenny. What is weighing you down? Not love?" Satan asked.

"No, I wish that were my problem. I'd be grateful." Kenny sighed. "I hate that I'm stuck in of immorality. I hate dying and coming back. It's painful and is sad to hide that part of myself."

"One day all will be revealed to you, but right now, you're in the place you need to be. I myself was kicked out of Heaven to rule over Hell and be cursed with bad relationships." Satan sighed. "All this power and no one to share it with."

"Yeah, it's hard to have no one on your side." Kenny thought for a moment, speaking to Stan. "Maybe that's how you feel as well. We have an understanding once you knew what I was."

"I'm sorry you're trapped in this loop." Stan sighed. "I still would like to come back. Even if I only get one chance."

"Would that make it easier for you, if the rules applied to him a little less and a little more for you?" Satan asked Kenny.

"What have a little of my immortality rub off on Stan?" Kenny looked between them. "I guess that would help."

"My word, you haven't even touched your tea." Satan said to Stan. Indeed, Stan's cup had started to get cold, while Kenny's was almost finished. It was good once Kenny got a hang of the sugar to milk ratio.

"Come on Stan, stand in front of this mirror, and bring your teacup." Satan gestured to a giant mirror in the corner of his living room.

Stan obeyed, gazing at himself in the mirror. Same ol' Stan, maybe he was not due for a character arc. "Take a drink." Satan encouraged.

Stan took another useless deep breath and took a sip, and then a gulp from the teacup. A shiver and then a shock through his body, he felt like he would vomit again, an inconvenience that death had taken care of for him.

Black smoke poured out of Stan's mouth, more thick and disgusting than any vomit. The color drained from his face and the color leaked from his eyes in navy tears.

Stan shook himself and examined his new look in the mirror. The addiction of video gaming had caused him to get possessed by Satan once and his look reflected that. Sallow, ghostly pale skin, sickly yellow eyes, hair sticking haphazardly out of his hat.

Satan shook his head. "That's what happens when you drink tea of the dead and you're not supposed to be dead."

"Am I stuck like this?" Stan asked.

"No, you'll go back to normal once you're alive on the surface again, or once your soul is mine forever. You have 24 hours from now."

"Well, Stan. Congratulations. You're definitely not normal anymore." Kenny said sarcastically, looking down to make sure he hadn't changed from drinking the tea.

"What happens after 24 hours?" Stan asked, practicing scary faces in the mirror.

"Either you return here or trapped in a coma the rest of what should be your natural life." Satan said, serving himself again.

Stan shivered, his demonic looks making it look unsettling. He eyed Kenny through the mirror. "If it doesn't work, Kenny. I want you to kill me."

Kenny looked back at Stan. "Understood. I won't leave you trapped in a place worse than Hell. If things go wrong, we'll have our chosen family down here."

"Promise?" Stan asked. "No matter what Kyle or anyone says?"

"Promise." Kenny nodded solemnly back.

"No one living can actually know how to bring the dead back to life. We'll need a decoy." Satan said.

Stan couldn't fuck this up. He put his head down and gave a wide-eyed dead stare in the mirror. "I know the perfect person."

Henrietta Biggle sat on the edge of her bed, cigarette and ash tray perched on the windowsill, looking out into the snowy night. She was trying to come up with something to write. Perhaps a tribute to the kid who died in her room. That had been the most hardcore and frightening thing that had happened to her lately. Other than when her mom took her shopping at The Gap.

Ghostly tendrils of smoke came out of a hole that formed in her carpet as the new evil Stan stood before Henrietta. "Henrietta Biggle." Stan said, his new voice echoing in a demonic tone. "You have summoned me?"

Henrietta remained unimpressed; she took another drag of her cigarette. "Oh, dark one, Raven. Where were you a few nights ago?"

"I was there, waiting to see if you were worthy of the power granted to you." Stan's voice echoed and shook the walls.

Henrietta cocked a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Power?"

"Everyone in the Biggle family is talented." Stan continued in his demonic voice. "Bradly of the powers of Mint and Berry. You, Henrietta have been granted the power of necromancy. Use it for good. Bring me back from the dead."

"What if I don't want to use it for good? Where were you when I called you, why did that kid die on my carpet?"

"I was testing your powers, and I took Kenny to hell with me and I'll take you too!"

"Kickass." Henrietta said. She was liking Raven more and more.

Fuck. He didn't want to make her happy. "I mean...I'll take all your friends and give you no power to communicate with them. I'll make sure you live to be 100 years old but absolutely lonely, surrounded by conformists."

"A fate worse than death." Henrietta whispered. "Fine. I'll do your bidding."

Stan's voice rose, a demonic tone like a thunderclap against the walls of Henrietta's room. "I grant thee powers of the dark underworld. You will have the ability to bring the dead back to life, but not to kill. Death has to happen naturally. My death was not natural and was before my time. You're here to right a wrong."

"Anything you want oh dark one." Henrietta said with a rare smile.

Stan had to make one last stop before he had to be summoned back to hell, hopefully for the last time. He didn't make his entrance quite as dramatic as he entered Kyle's room from under his bed.

Kyle was in bed, staring off into space. He had eaten a full meal with his family but had returned to his room to lay down. He had hope and was waiting for a sign. He didn't expect it as a ghoulish face of Stan appearing from below his bed. "Dude, Stan? What the hell?"

"Exactly, drank some tea of the dead. No big deal." Stan sat up. He was still in ghost form, but he was able to move more freely without Chef or Kenny as a tether for him.

"So, what do you need from me?"

"Chef thinks he can bring me back from the dead if we get ahold of that Stanbearpig. Satan says I'm not meant to be in Hell, but I only have so much time before I'm stuck there forever."

"So we need the actual items and the distraction. I already did the distraction with the goth kids. I need you to actually get ahold of the Stanbearpig."

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. "I was able to pet it, it's afraid of me. But if it's you I know who would attract it. Wendy."

Stan said nothing even if he knew it was true. He moved over to the bunny, not touching it as not to frighten it. "From Glimmer Corp?" He asked.

"Yeah, I shouldn't even ask if you remember, but you wanted nothing to do with it, so I took it in."

"Oh I remember. It felt like I was screaming my true self when my warped self was slowly taking over."

"I did wrong too. Again, I'm sorry, Stan."

"I'm sorry too. I do think I deserve Kenny shooting me. I didn't deserve a friend as good as you." Stan cracked a smile, as creepy at is looked in his current state.

"It's ok dude. I'm happy to see you again, Stan. Maybe you can name our bunny."

Stan's spooky smile faltered. "There is one dark side. We only have 24 hours to do this or I'm trapped forever in a coma. I already told Kenny to kill me if it got to that."

Sheila Broflovski was feeling better about her son's behavior adjustment. Maybe he would be back to normal after a while. She walked by Kyle's room and overheard her son talking.

"Yeah so once we kill it, you'll be back to normal, Stan? Don't worry, if it doesn't work, I'll make sure me, and Kenny take care of you." Some silence and then his voice picking up again, as continuing a conversation. "No, not like that. If you're sure. It's sad to see your die again." She heard her son sniffling to himself, as if he were holding back tears.

Sheila opened Kyle's door. "Bubbe, what's going on?" She saw Kyle sitting on his bed, eyes unfocused, talking to the wall.

"Nothing, ma. Everything's fine." Kyle looked up at his mom, noticing Stan blink out of existence when she entered.

Sheila took out her cell phone. "Honey I want you to remain calm, but we're going to get you to a hospital to get checked out."

"Mom, no you don't understand. Stan only has so much time- "Kyle started to explain.

"Honey things are going to be ok." Sheila moved to reach for Kyle, but he took off running around her, he ran downstairs, past his dad on the couch and ran out into the snowy night. Sheila cried as she called the cops. They put out an immediate APB to be on the lookout for a mentally deranged 10-year-old.

No superhero outfit for Kyle. Instead he wandered the streets of South Park like a zombie. A lost soul or ghost. He would duck into the woods when he saw cars coming. Of course, his mom had made a big deal out of nothing. He, Kenny, and Stan only had so much time. He walked the woods, wishing for Stan to appear for guidance, but he knew what he could accomplish on his own for now.

Wendy laid in her bed, box of tissues by her side. She hadn't left her room since the fire department had rescued her from that monster. Being believed was a struggle, she said a bear chased her when she went to visit Stan's grave. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be near there, it was sent as a warning to stay far away.

Then the news of Kenny suddenly passing. Too much death. Another round of sobs wracked Wendy's body as she thought of Stan again. Yes, they broke up, yes, the last time they spoke was on bad terms, she had tried to be mature and tell him to take care of himself. Of course, he didn't listen and now she lost him forever. Not in a dumb breakup, he'd never be sitting her in class, lunchroom, recess, she'd never see him around town. She would get older, but he would never get to grow up.

Every memory of their fights cut her like a million paper cuts and every sweet memory cut her like a million stab wounds. Maybe that monster was sent to warn her, that it was supposed to be her instead. The creepy note from Stan's friends. Stay out of the forest.

A rustling of her curtains and she nearly screamed again as Kyle climbed through her window. "What do you want?" She asked, voice thick through tears.

"Listen Wendy I need your help, and no one else can do it." Kyle explained as he hopped into her bedroom.

Wendy winced, maybe the rumors were true. "I'm sorry about Kenny and... Stan." Another round of sobs came up from her.

"I'm sorry too." Kyle stood for a moment, wondering if it would be inappropriate to sit on her bed. "I was in the woods, walking when Kenny and Stan appeared to me."

Wendy was skeptical, but she looked at him. "Go on."

"Kenny said he could fix this, and he and Stan would be brought back with some kind of magic. That there's a creature called a Stanbearpig roaming the South Park woods that is the key, kind of to bring Stan back."

"Stanbearpig." Wendy gasped. "I went to visit Stan's grave and this giant creature chased me. I barely got away from it."

"Yes, I need you to lure it into the graveyard. It's after you so we would eliminate the problem once and for all and bring Stan back. The real Stan."

"I don't really believe you." Wendy shivered again. She glanced down at an alert on her phone. "Kyle, why is the news saying to call the police if they see you? That you should be considered dangerous?"

"I know what everyone's saying about me. I promise you, Wendy if I'm crazy and this is all wrong, you have my full permission to call my mom, or your parents or the cops or whoever you want."

"Fine I'll humor you. Just know I'm  
doing it because I feel sorry for you. I want you, Cartman and whoever else to stay away and leave me alone after this." Stan won't really come back, but maybe Wendy could get Kyle some help.

"I'll need something to protect myself." With great effort, Wendy went to her desk drawer to pull out a can of pepper spray.

"I know you don't trust me or believe me. Here you can have this." Kyle pulled something out.

Wendy's eyebrows raised as Kyle handed her a gun.

The sky was clouded over, the wind picked up on yet another snowy night. The goth kids had really gotten into their task and had shoved aside the flowers on Stan's grave to draw a pentagram in the graveyard dirt, black candles lit and flickering at each of the five points. Henrietta at the top and each of the goth kids at a point with Kyle, with a jar of three fiddy, to complete the star. Reverse halo of candlelight reflecting off their faces, the goth kids seemed to love doing this, even if they were just decoys for the real magic at hand.

Wendy stood at the edge of the forest, the wooden fence of the cemetery still demolished. Gun in her pocket, finger on the trigger, if this didn't work either she would be dead and Kyle locked up the rest of his life. She had confidence she could outrun the monster once again.

Wendy looked to Henrietta, who nodded back. "Stan? Wendy cleared her throat, trying to push the timid tone away. "Stan, where are you? Come talk to me. I know you want to."

Silence. Wendy waited with bated breath. "Stan?" She called again, voice echoing through the forest. A Wendy looked to Henrietta, who nodded back. "Stan? Wendy cleared her throat, trying to push the timid tone away. "Stan, where are you? Come talk to me. I know you want to."

Silence. Wendy waited with bated breath. "Stan?" She called again, voice echoing through the forest.

A guttural howl came from the end of the woods, the creature emerged from the forest's foliage. Wendy was afraid of it but didn't want it to show. Now she knew who the monster was based off of she couldn't help but feel bad for it, the wounded animal state it was in. The creature walked towards her on all fours, it's right leg limping. It clumsily lumbered over the fence.

Wendy took off running, leading the beast to the center of the pentagram. She stood in the middle as the other kids got out of the way.

She didn't know why she was surprised it had followed her so easily. Kyle could see the sadness in its eyes as the creature got closer to Wendy. At least he was able to pet it before the last time before it had gotten hurt.

The Stanbearpig got close to Wendy, it's hot breath on her neck, it breathed in and roared in her face. Wendy closed her eyes and sniffed, hoping no tears would fall. She was not getting eaten tonight by a monster version of her ex-boyfriend. She focused her emotion, her eyes narrowed as her pulled out the gun.

"Now!" Wendy shouted as Kyle slammed the jar of coins on top of Stan's grave.

Wendy stood in the center of the pentagram and took a shot at the Stanbearpig. Bam, dead center through the chest. Fitting Wendy would pierce Stan right through the heart.

The beast roared and fell forward, black vomit of blood coming from its mouth. Wendy afraid for a moment she would be crushed under its weight. At it fell, the body of the Stanbearpig twisted and rotted away, splashing on Wendy, leaving acidic bile to soak into the earth, watering the top of Stan's grave.

Kyle helped Wendy to her feet, pulling the girl against him instinctively out of comfort. She pushed him away, sticky handprint of the melted Stanbearpig leaving a smudge on his jacket. As Wendy brushed coins off her clothes, the kids looked around expectantly, wondering which direction their friend would appear.

Kenny's eyes opened. Familiar ceiling of his own modest home. He sat up, looking out the window. He shook his head and got up, grabbing his parka and running out the front door. His family didn't even acknowledge him.

Kenny ran past the train tracks, ran up the streets up to 2001 Bonanza Street. He knocked on the door to be opened to a tired looking Shelly Marsh. Kenny ran past her and up the stairs, bursting into Stan's room.

Empty. Kenny's hands went to the blankets, shaking them out to be sure, throwing the pillow onto the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shelly shouted from behind him.

"Where's your mom, Shelly?"

"I don't know. Either crying in bed or looking up if divorce papers can be delivered to a camping tent."

Kenny went to the next bedroom and opened that door. Sharon Marsh was asleep in bed. No baby anywhere.

"What the fuck?" Kenny said to himself.

"Ok, Kenny. If you're done being a weird turd can you get out of my house?" Shelly pointed to the front door.

It hadn't worked? Maybe Stan had hesitated when Kenny was pulling him to the other side. Kenny was thrown out into the cold night by Shelly, door slamming behind him.

The rules didn't apply to Kenny. But Stan had the gift of being normal, despite extraordinary circumstances. So where would an average person end up if they were being raised by from dead? Kenny eyed Stan's dog Sparky as he sniffed and dug at the earth.

Shit.

Kenny burst back into the Marsh house and ran back up the stairs, startling an angry Shelly. He grabbed Stan's black iPhone and dialed the familiar number.

Kyle was worried about Wendy, the poor girl had blood and sludge all over her as she shivered in the cold night. They waited to see if Stan would appear before them. Feeling bad he took off his orange coat to offer it to her, but the girl shook her head. Wild eyed trauma reflected in her eyes.

The phone in Kyle's pocket rang, now was not the time. But Kyle's blood ran cold to see the call from coming from Stan's phone, hand shaking he answered it. "Hello, Stan?"

"No dude it's, Kenny. I think we- dammit Shelly- I'll leave in a minute. Kyle, dig. If he's alive, he's underground. Dig up the fucking coffin."

"And if he's not?" Kyle asked.

"I'll pay for your therapy. Ok goddamn Shelly I'm leaving- "the phone went silent. Kyle cursed. "Guys, Kenny told us to dig up  
the coffin."

Michael made a sour expression. "You think we could have dug it up before we brought him back to life?"

"I don't know dude, fucking dig." Kyle said, clawing frantically at the dirt.

"This is the darkest shit ever." Wendy muttered as she got down to help Kyle dig.

"I know, isn't it great." Pete said, cigarette pinched between his lips.

Silence other than the scraping of hands on the packed earth. Wendy took a shaky breath; she didn't want to cry in front of the goth kids and Kyle.

A sharp metallic clang made Wendy jump as Kenny ran up, one eye closed and swollen as he dropped a handful of shovels, hoes, and other digging supplies in the middle of the pile.

"Dude!" Kyle shrieked.

"Shelly, uh sends her regards." Kenny said grabbing a shovel to keep chipping away at the six feet between them and Stan.

The digging of the dirt became more frenzied. How long had Stan been under there, and how long had they been standing around like dumbasses waiting for some magic to happen?

Kenny couldn't imagine which possibly was worse, Stan alive and clawing, trapped in his grave. Or they failed and he truly had been lost forever.

Finally, after an eternity, the sharp metal of the shovel made contact with the hard wood of the coffin. Dirt was pushed aside, as everyone hoisted the lid to the coffin open.

Kyle grimaced at the site, Stan's eyes were closed, perfectly peaceful if not fake looking. Nothing like the look of horrified shock with blank eyes that had been haunting Kyle.

"It didn't work? Was it all for nothing?" Kyle said as he gently shook Stan.

"We were too late?" Kenny asked. Eyes going to the gun still in Wendy's sticky hand. "Should I... keep my promise to him?"

"No!" Kyle yelled. He shook Stan harder.

Suddenly Stan took a deep actual useful breath and gasping as he sat up in his grave. He stared wide eyed at his friends looking back in shock. Kyle grabbed him into a hug. Kenny dropped the gun in surprise. Wendy wiped tears from her eyes while the goth kids looked on, their apathetic expressions broken.

"Holy shit, I really am a witch." Henrietta whispered to herself.

"That was the most hardcore goth shit I've ever seen." Firkle squeaked.

"Welcome back dude." Kyle said, helping Stan unsteadily to his feet.

"Thank you." Stan reached to grab Kenny to join the hug. "Thank you too, for keeping your promise."

"You know I couldn't leave you like that dude." Kenny said back. "But how do we know you're back to normal?" He asked, still unsure.

Wendy went up to hug Stan. The two embraced and she landed a kiss on his cheek. When they released, Stan dropped to his knees and vomited all over her shoes.


	14. The Stan Marsh Memorial Animal Shelter

Summer winds picked up as the sun broke through the clouds. The entire town had gathered for the ribbon cutting ceremony for the Stan Marsh Memorial Animal Shelter. A brand-new building had been built over the remaining land of the old burned down Glimmer Corp building.

Stan Marsh was red as a tomato as he cut the ribbon on his own memorial animal shelter. Sure, he was not actually dead, but no one was particularly concerned about the sign reflecting that. The mayor shook his hand, and everyone clapped. Randy and Sharon, who were back together yet again, beamed with pride at their son. Shelly rolled her eyes but clapped along as well. She had to find Stan's little turd friend and apologize for hitting him, now that she knew what he was trying to do.

"What do you have to say about this new animal shelter?" Asked Mayor McDaniels, shoving a microphone in Stan's face.

"I think it's good we're being more conscientious of how we're treating animals, and each other." Stan felt his stomach flip as he spoke, but he had practiced this speech enough times that he couldn't get it wrong.

She said she he couldn't fail with all he practiced.

With some relief he stepped off stage to a smattering of applause and went off to the side to avoid the crowd. Another announcement was taking place. He stood next to Wendy Testaburger, his ex-girlfriend and new friend. "Good job." She said, brushing the lapel of his sleek new black suit and navy tie. "This suit makes you look nice."

"Thank you, for all your help." Stan smiled back at her. "I'm still not sure about this shirt though."

"No way, the lavender brings out your eyes." She winked at him. He gave her a small side hug in return, not a bit of nausea, thank Satan.

The two stood and watched as Ned lead his girlfriend Rita onto the stage. Over in the corner, the band stopped as Ned Gerblansky got down unsteadily on one knee.

"Rita? Will you make me the happiest man since I was in Vietnam?" He held out a diamond ring on a chain to her.

"Yes!" She shouted; her eyes filled with tears. She also got down on her knees, grabbing the ring with her mouth and kissing him at the same time. Ned used his one arm to slip the ring around her neck.

Stan politely clapped; happy the spotlight was taken away. "It's like they expected me to do that for you." He joked to Wendy.

She snorted. "At nine years old? No thank you." She smiled at him again. "But I'm so happy you're... normal isn't the right word, you never were. I'm happy you're healthy and ok. That you're making progress to improve the world and allowing the community to help."

Stan looked away; color rose on his cheeks. "You're too kind to me, after all I put you through."

"No after all I've put you through." Wendy looked around the party as music started up again and couples began dancing. "So, this is the end of Stan and Wendy." She sighed.

Stan shook his head. "I wouldn't say that, it's the end of Stan and Wendy as a couple. But replaced with us as friends. True good friends. Look how much we accomplished in that short time."

Wendy smiled and gave him another embrace, fully wrapping her arms around him. Here he was, genuine, kind, and alive. She was so grateful the universe had allowed Stan back into her life. "See you for roller skating on Saturday?" She whispered in his ear.

"See you then." He had been literally shot in the heart, twice, but this somehow hurt worse. It was hard to let such an intelligent, brave, and beautiful girl go. But he needed to. Their relationship was starting to turn toxic and he cared about her too much to not let that happen. He didn't want them to hate each other one day.

He looked up to see his friends, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman waiting to speak to him. Wendy excused herself to rejoin the party.

Stan went to meet his friends. "So, you finally got the attention you wanted?" Cartman asked, "You have a goddamn band and parade in your honor."

"Dude! Don't ruin Stan's big day." Kyle started, he put an arm around his best friend's shoulder. "Really though, this is amazing. I can't believe we finally got it organized."

"Why were you all over Wendy if you're not even together anymore?" Kenny asked.

"Why you're wondering if she's available?" Cartman laughed. Kenny pulled the strings of his hoodie a bit.

"Yeah we're friends." Stan said simply, rolling his eyes as he led his friends through the party, smiling and waving, but still embarrassed at the attention.

All three boys stared at him. "Yeah that's what they all say." Kyle sighed as he followed.

"No really, I know...but we are. She took me to the mall to help me pick out a suit." Stan continued.

"Why were you shopping with her, and let her dress you in purple?" Cartman jeered.

"Because my old suit was covered in blood, dirt, Stanbearpig slime, and puke." Stan eyes narrowed but in truth he was grateful that was the worst of the damage in the end. "Wendy does all that student council stuff, so she helped me write my speech and practice my public speaking. I'll be happy when all this stuff is over. Anyway, ready to check it out?"

The boys entered the shining new Animal Shelter. Bonnie Stevens, the mother of their classmate Bebe greeted the boys from the front desk. "Hi welcome, are you here to fill out volunteer forms?"

"Yes, we are." Stan said, looking over his friends.

Kyle and Kenny took forms looking them over, but Cartman held back. "Why would I volunteer for anything?"

"We need more people to help in the cat room." Bonnie said.

"Well if it's for cats...goddammit, Stan." Cartman frowned but put his name down.

The new building had a center for animal care, rehabilitation, and adoption. The various rabbits and cats used in Glimmer Corp's animal testing, as well as other stray animals where getting care they needed to be adopted out. All the workers who worked sales at Glimmer Corp now had admin and care jobs at the Animal Shelter. The center was run by people who had more ethical and better paying jobs than what they were doing before at Glimmer Corp.

The boys walked out the building to return to the party when suddenly the skies went dark and the boys were engulfed in a bubble of golden light. Stan and Kyle grabbing each other making sure neither of them lost each other again. Kenny instantly ducked, sure this was his next untimely end. Cartman had frozen in shock and stood in place.

When everyone looked up, they saw before them Chef stepping from a golden cloud. He had a white robe, a golden halo, and large Angel wings. "Hello there children."

"Hey, Chef." The boys said in unison.

"How's it going?"

Stan looked around, regaining his composure. "Good, great actually."

"That's good, it's going great for me too!" Chef grinned.

Kenny looked over at Chef's attire. "You're not in Hell anymore?"

"After I helped Satan, he allowed me to go to Heaven. Boys, you would not believe what these Mormon women are into once they reach their kingdom." Chef started to sing. "They were waiting for me. A paradise of sexual fantasy."

The boys looked over at Cartman, who was stuck in a frozen position, mouth agape and looking pissed off. Kyle laughed as Stan waved his hand in front of Cartman's face. No response.

"You don't want to come back to life now, Chef?" Stan asked.

Chef shook his head. "No, I'm happy with where I'm at. As a favor for the help, I gave you boys the power of remembrance for Kenny."

Now it was Kenny's turn to be uncomfortable as the center of attention. "What now?"

"It's easier if I just do it than explain." Chef clapped his hands, the sound echoing like thunder. With that he disappeared, leaving Stan, Kyle, and Kenny with a frozen Cartman.

The three boys left Cartman behind and continued the rocky path until they could see Mephesto lab over the hill, the lab now had a newer building added.

When it came out that Mephesto had been wrongly accused and had cared for the boys when they were injured and saved Stan's life, he was able to get out of jail. He sued the South Park Police Department for enough money to expand his research to make advances in pain relief, weight loss, brain surgery and bringing the dead back to life. Anyone who worked in chemical mixing had been offered jobs at the new expanded Mephesto's Genetic Engineering Ranch. Part of that money went to fund and build the Stan Marsh Memorial Animal Shelter.

Henrietta Biggle had been chosen as a consultant on the necromancy project. They said they were close to a breakthrough but of course they weren't. She was working with Mephesto to perfect the formula of witchcraft to bring the dead back to life, something with coins, full moons, pentagrams and other cool goth shit.

"It's not like they'll ever get the formula to immortality correct, right, Kenny?" Stan asked. The boys looking over the sign for necromancy research.

"Yeah, people think they would want it, but they don't." Kenny said looking over. "Let's get out of here. You never know who's around."

Kyle was uncomfortable being in this spot of the woods. It was the site of Stan's first death, another of Kenny's innumerable deaths, and almost his. "So, Kenny." Kyle asked. "You were there the whole time helping us."

"Yeah I was. I got actually killed in the car." Kenny said sadly, he looked up surprised. "Oh, you two now have the power of remembrance."

Realization dawned over Stan's face as well. "I don't remember everything from that night, but we didn't burn that building down."

"Yeah that was me too and got rid of the truck. Someone had to cover our assess. I died in a fire as well." Kenny lamented.

"Damn, Kenny. You really are a true friend. We owe you all big time." Kyle said, patting Kenny on the shoulder.

"You did all that, and still followed me into Hell to drag me back." Stan said. "I can't thank you enough."

"Anytime, dude. It feels so nice to not be trapped in my own thoughts in my head to cope with this. A little of my immorality sacrificed but the burden is less." Kenny sighed as the three boys headed back to Cartman on the bridge.

"But as long as it provides funding to help the Stan Marsh Memorial Animal Shelter." Kyle said looking back at the research center one more time. "The whole town owes you Kenny, even if Stan gets credit."

Stan nosebridgepinched. "I can't believe they're still calling it that, they said they already had the sign ordered and weren't going to fix it."

"You really want to be remembered as the boy who came back from the dead?" Kenny said darkly. "Again, it's a heavy burden."

Stan shrugged. "I don't know, do you?"

Kenny shook his head, "Who would believe me? You guys barely figured it out. I'm fine with you as a decoy, Stan. It's a hard responsibility, but you can handle it. At least I have two people in my corner. Even if dying still hurts." Kenny smiled again at his friends.

"Tell me about it." Stan sighed.

"And the living suffer over the death." Kyle hugged himself. "All the lives both of you touched were destroyed in an instant. The dead almost have it better than the living. I wanted to be with you guys so badly."

"Well the three of us have each other now." Stan put his arms around Kyle and Kenny. "I'm happy to be a regular person after all that. With my second chance I want to make the world better."

Cartman suddenly unfroze. "Oh my god Stan you are such a pussy. I wanna make the world better meh meh meh." He mocked.

Stan laughed it off, "Thank you for keeping my body alive while the rest was sorted out. Even though now I have to jog every morning and have another 20 pounds to lose."

"Yeah you're the fat kid now, Stan." Cartman laughed.

"No, you'll always be the fat kid, Cartman." Stan said with a smile. "But we love you." He gestured to have Cartman join the huddle.

The boys stood over the bridge, watching the sunset. Kyle remembering that cold lonely hopeless March evening, that sunset he watched in the woods thinking it would be his last. Now he felt hopeful watching it with his friends now. "Did you get what you wanted, Stan?" He asked.

"And was it just attention you wanted fat boy?" Cartman snarked at Stan.

Stan rolled his eyes, admiring the view. "I think I did, but I learned something today. You can't take anything for granted, you must fight to make the world a better place but appreciate what you have in life because anything can be taken from you in a blink of an eye."

"If you want Wendy that bad, she might take you back." Kyle offered.

"No, this was my story and journey to appreciate myself for me. We all have talents to make the world for the better." Stan said as his eyes met Kenny's for a moment. "So, if I have to be embarrassed for a bit and have the wrong sign on the building, at least the work going on is making things for the better for animals in this town."

"I also learned something today." Kyle spoke up. "No friendship is perfect. Not even ours Stan, but all we have is to be as good as we can to each other, because once we're dead and gone the memory of who we were is how you stay alive."

"Unless you're Stan with your own memorial animal shelter." Kenny laughed.

"But even that, you defeated and used extraordinary circumstances to you advantage for such a simple solution to the problem and makes the world better. The world will always be better as long as you're in it, Stan." Kyle smiled.

Cartman spoke up "I also learned something today. Being skinny kicks ass and now Stan is the fat kid."

"Not for long, you're already putting back on your liposuction weight." Kyle said.

"You want those bruises on your face back?" Cartman said.

"Go ahead, try me." Kyle's eyes narrowed.

As the two boys started to argue, Kenny started to point and laugh at them. Stan shook his head and continued to watch the sunset. An average scene for the boys, once again Stan was the still and peaceful force among the chaos around him. His trance was broken by a splash as Kyle pushed Cartman in the river.

"Really guys?" Stan yelled. "We just had a heartfelt moment. This is why we can't have nice things..."

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I can't believe its done. This fic was published 10 years ago and was my baby for a long time. An embarrassing amount of work went into this and I see my writing style evolve as I read through these chapters.
> 
> If you go into Spotify and look up Abnormally Average, you'll find a playlist of what I was listening to while working on this these past few months.


End file.
